


Visions of Sugarplums

by youaremarvelous



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst and Humor, Blow Jobs, Christmas, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Minor Original Character(s), Shower Sex, Sickfic, Slice of Life, Unrequited Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-28
Updated: 2015-06-29
Packaged: 2018-03-15 14:22:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 25,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3450338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youaremarvelous/pseuds/youaremarvelous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Taking a job as a mall elf was bad enough without a certain former rival to torment him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“This is just a one time thing, right?” Sugawara asked. He zipped up his windbreaker and bent down in his doorway to pull on his snow boots. “Two months and then I’m out. I’ll graduate, get an awesome job with my degree, and then we can pretend this was all just a bad dream.”

 

Sugawara struggled to pull the boot over his thick socks. He yanked hard and his grip slipped, sending his elbow rocketing into the door. “Argh!” He yelped as he rolled dramatically to his side and cradled his arm. “Aren’t you going to say anything?” He demanded with a huff.

 

His cat stared back with owlish eyes, blinking slowly before continuing to groom her glossy black coat.

 

“You’re useless, you know that?” Sugawara smirked, reaching forward to pet her anyway. He sighed and stood, stomping his foot a few times before his heel slid into place.

 

“Keep the house safe.” He told the cat, turning to face the door, balling his fists at his sides, and taking a deep breath before reaching for the doorknob. It was cold outside—really, grossly cold. Normally that would annoy him, but today his thoughts were miles away in a department store with fake evergreens, string lights, and the vaguely depressing saccharine tones of Christmas music in November.

 

‘ _It’s just 2 months._ ’ He told himself. ‘ _I’ll save the money I need, and no one will be the wiser_.’ It was a mantra he’d picked up to comfort himself ever since he accepted the job a couple of weeks ago. He was confident it was true. Most of the other third years had left town for university, and the ones that hadn’t didn’t have younger siblings that would be likely to want a photo with Santa.

 

He dragged his heels on the walk to the bus stop a little more than usual and stared up at the low hanging gray clouds. “Don’t you dare snow.” He warned up at the sky, taking off at a jog when he noticed the bus idling ahead.

 

Of course, on this of all days, the perpetually late bus was running ahead of schedule and he ended up getting to the mall a few minutes early. He was relieved to find the place fairly empty as he made his way to the department store. He spotted the manager almost immediately—he recognized her from orientation, she had the same stern expression and pinched features, but now she was decked out in a red velvet and white fur-lined dress.

 

“M-Mrs. Claus, I presume?” He asked when he approached her.

 

She didn’t crack a smile at his joke, instead pulling a pen from her clipboard and scanning the list of names. “And you are?”

 

“Ah, Koushi Sugawara.” He said, tempted to add a ‘reporting to duty’ to the end but deciding against it.

 

She put a check next to his name and nodded. “Stay here while I get your costume.”

 

Sugawara watched her disappear into the back room and then exhaled a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. His shoulders wilted as he looked around the store. Garland was strung across the ceiling, adorned with gauzy golden bows and giant luminescent plastic snowflakes. Cleared out in the very center was “Santa’s Village.” There was a short white fence lining the perimeter, festooned with Christmas trees so bright, snowy, and colorful, they could’ve been clipped from a magazine. Inside the boundary was a small building, the rooftops illuminated by hundreds of twinkling lights and sparkling fake snow and the windows glowing with the suggestion of a warm fire. Red, green, and silver wrapped gifts were piled in front of the front door, forming the backdrop for Santa’s gargantuan, plush throne.

 

“Impressive, huh?” The manager’s voice sounded next to his ear.

 

Sugawara jumped at her sudden appearance. “Uh, yeah.” He nodded, surprised to see a brief glint of pride in her usually apathetic eyes. “Did you do all of this?”

 

“Yeah, well, me and some idiots hired by HR.” She grumbled at the floor, tightening her hand into a fist. “But mostly me.”

 

Sugawara blinked and then smiled. “Well, you did a great job.”

 

“Ah—” the manager started, her face turning red as she pushed a stack of clothes into Sugawara’s arms. “Flattery will get you no where. Now go change.” She said, pointing in the direction of the staff bathroom they had previously toured when getting locker assignments.

 

Sugawara suppressed a laugh and nodded in appreciation before heading for the room. The bathroom was empty when he got there, a nice benefit of having arrived early, since no one would be around to bear witness to his first time seeing his costume.

 

Sugawara inhaled, steadied himself, and then looked down at the folded green velvet in his hands. He chewed on his bottom lip, silently bereaving the death of his last shred of dignity. He placed the costume on the bench and unzipped his jacket, hanging it on the hook in his locker.

 

Luckily, he hadn’t had much dignity to begin with, or anyway, he had decided a while ago that other things were more valuable. Flashes of tan skin and chocolate brown eyes flitted unwittingly through his mind and he shivered and yanked his jumper over his head so hard his ears pulsed.

 

He grabbed at his long-sleeved, red undershirt and sniffed it before putting it on. The fabric was soft—probably just plain cotton, which was good, because he had embarrassingly sensitive skin. He unzipped his pants then, taking an inordinate amount of time to pull them off and fold them in an attempt to delay the inevitable. He stared at what awaited him with a resigned look, before finally sighing and picking up the striped red and green stockings. This was it—the complete departure of his pride. As he pulled on his velvet shorts, tunic, and jingle bell adorned jester’s collar, he felt surprisingly okay about it.

 

He fastened the over-sized, pleather black belt around his waist and toed on his pointed boots. ‘ _There’s no where to go but up._ ’ He reassured himself as he put the rest of his clothes in the locker and closed it. He picked up his hat and walked to the full-length mirror, cringing at the way he jingled with each step. What he saw was exactly what he expected: he looked stupid. There was no way around it, he was a 21 year old in an elf suit. He put on his hat and tilted it to the side, throwing himself his widest, cheesiest grin and winking.

 

“I don’t know about Santa, but you’re on my naughty list.” He told his reflection, flicking the bell on the end of his hat. “Oh god, I can’t do this.” He moaned, covering his face with his hands and shaking his head slowly.

 

“Sugawara, shift’s starting!” The manager’s voice sounded through the door.

 

Sugawara glanced up and nodded. “Coming,” he said, slipping over to his locker for the list of conversation prompts he had received during orientation. He folded the paper and stuck in his pocket before swallowing thickly and leaving the sanctuary of the locker room.

 

The manager looked him up and down when he stepped out into the unforgiving florescent light of the department store. “Straighten your hat.” She said immediately. “And pull down your tunic, it’s crumpled over your belt.”

 

Sugawara complied, making minor adjustments until the manager clicked her tongue in approval. “That’ll do. Here.” She said, handing him a name tag that read “Sugarplum.”

 

“Uh…” Sugawara started.

 

“It’s your elf—err Santa’s Helper—name. Every e—Santa’s Helper has to have a name.”

 

“I do have a name.” Sugawara pointed out. “A good name. I like my name.”

 

The manager rolled her eyes, “it’s not cheery enough. You need a cheery name—and Christm—Holiday themed.”

 

“But—“

 

“Just put on the damn name tag.” She sighed, looking like the intersection between worn-out and annoyed. Sugawara suspected she had had this talk a few times already.

 

“Fine.” He relented, pinning the thing to his chest. “Happy?”

 

“Thrilled.” She deadpanned, checking the clipboard she held tightly to her chest. “Let’s see, Sugarplum…” she said to herself, sliding her index finger across the page. “Ah, here we are. Sugarplum, you’re with Twinkle and Merry on crowd duty.”

 

“Crowd duty?”

 

“You were at orientation weren’t you?” She asked, sounding annoyed. “You engage the patrons and keep them under control while they wait for their chance with Santa.” She said, gesturing to the serpentine queue line in front of the entrance to Santa’s Village. “And if you work hard, there might be a spot at Santa’s side just for you.” She intoned with a creepily cheerful voice, clearly reciting from a script.

 

“One can only dream!” Sugawara replied, echoing the manager's stilted tone. He could’ve sworn he saw a storm cloud physically manifest over the manager’s head with the dark look she shot him.

 

“S-sorry.” he stuttered, holding his hands up in defense.

 

The manager ignored him, instead gesturing for him to follow her to the front of the line where two elves were bickering back and forth.

 

“What’s going on here?” She asked.

 

One of the elves—a short, thick-thighed girl with cute, round cheeks—folded her arms over her chest. “We don’t have enough queue belts.”

 

“How did that happen?” The manager demanded.

 

A nervous looking boy with black hair and a pimpled chin looked up and shrugged. “We just ran out.”

 

The manager adjusted her glasses and studied her clipboard. “That’s not possible, did you follow my graph?”

 

“You mean that doodle?” The girl asked, placing a hand on her cocked hip.

 

“Th-that—“ the manager trembled, cheeks inflaming, “was not a ‘ _doodle_.’” She said, lips curling around the word as though it tasted foul in her mouth. “It was a precisely drawn diagram, and if you had followed it like you were supposed to, this wouldn’t have happened!”

 

“I’m pretty sure my little sister could’ve done a better drawing.” The girl replied. “And she’s six.”

 

Sugawara wanted to laugh at the scene unfolding in front of him, but instead he bowed his shoulders and stepped between the two women.

 

“I’m sure there’s a solution to be found here, right?”

 

“Who are you?” The round-cheeked girl asked, looking thoroughly unimpressed.

 

“This is Sugarplum.” The manager said, pointing to his name tag before he had time to respond. “You’d know that if you could read or—I don’t know—follow basic diagrams.”

 

“Basic _doodle_.” The girl corrected.

 

The manager trembled with anger. “One more word and—“

 

Sugawara laughed loudly and scratched the back of his head. “A joke. She’s just joking. Right—“ He stared imploringly at the girl.

 

“Me—um—Merry.” The girl supplied.

 

“Merry, okay, so nice to meet you.” Sugawara smiled, then looked over her shoulder at the cowering boy. “And you are?”

 

“Twinkle.” Merry supplied before the boy had a chance to open his mouth. “He’s my boyfriend.”

 

Sugawara smiled brightly. “Merry, Twinkle, let’s do our best, okay?”

 

Merry looked like she wanted to argue, but instead she just huffed and nodded. “Fine.”

 

“We will.” Twinkle’s quiet, stammering voice sounded behind her.

 

“That still doesn’t solve the belt issue.” The manager said, her face slowly returning to its natural hue.

 

“No problem!” Sugawara said, “is there a gift wrapping station here?”

 

“Of course there is.” The manager turned and pointed. “Right over there, near the register.”

 

“Great!” Sugawara gave her a thumbs up. “We can just borrow some ribbon to tie up and problem solved.”

 

The manager quirked an eyebrow and hummed. “Good thinking, Sugarplum. I have reindeer to corral, so I’ll leave it to you.”

 

“Got it!” Sugawara gave a forced smile.

 

“You know, it’s ideas like that that earn you a shot at top el—Santa’s Helper.” She told him seriously before nodding to him and each of his coworkers and disappearing into the forming crowd.

 

“Look at you, Mr. Hot Shot.” Merry whistled behind him. “Wish I was a cute guy, then maybe I’d have a shot at ‘loser of all losers.’”

 

“Trust me, the spot’s all yours.” Sugawara reassured her, placing a head on his forehead and sighing.

 

“You sure about that? Rumor mill has it the job pays $1.50 more per hour.”

 

Sugawara raised his eyebrows and blinked. “Seriously?”

 

Merry shrugged and leaned against a giant stuffed polar bear. “That’s what I hear, anyway. Not like management is going to let _me_ anywhere near the position.” She said, casting a dark look in the direction the manager had departed. “Anyway, shouldn’t you be grabbing that ribbon? Opening starts in, like, two minutes.”

 

Sugawara’s chin tilted up and he sucked in a breath. “Ah, yeah. Be right back.”

 

He squeezed his way through the crowd, mumbling a dozen rushed ‘excuse me’s’ before reaching the wrapping paper kiosk. There was no one attending the stand. He craned his neck and scanned the store for someone with a telltale red shirt and name tag, before finally giving up and opening drawers, gathering up a spool of bright red ribbon and some scissors.

 

“Mr. Refreshing?”

 

Sugawara jumped and dropped the spool at his feet. “Ah…sorry, I—“ He glanced up at the person addressing him. “O—Oikawa?”

 

“Long time, no see.” Oikawa said, waving off a small group of girls.

 

“Y-yeah.” Sugawara said, looking from the ribbon to Oikawa’s face.

 

The two blinked at each other in silence, Sugawara half-hunched over his fallen ribbon, cheeks growing warmer with each passing second, and Oikawa looking down at him, shoulders trembling from suppressed laughter.

 

“Of course, I always thought you were unnaturally nice, but an elf—never would’ve expected that one.”

 

“That’s…”

 

“Times must be rough, though, if you’re having to seek employment at the mall.”

 

“Well…”

 

“But I guess all of us are victims to the bad economy, if the state of those sad, droopy boots is any indication.”

 

“Okay!” Sugawara said, holding his hands up in surrender. “That’s enough, I think.”

 

“But I’m just getting started.”

 

“And if you finish, you’ll have one of these sad, droopy boots kicked firmly where the sun don’t shine.”

 

“I don’t think that’s appropriate elf behavior.”

 

“Santa’s Helper.” Sugawara corrected automatically.

 

“What?”

 

“Santa’s Helper.” Sugawara repeated, cheeks burning. “We don’t say ‘elf,’ we say ‘Santa’s Helper.’”

 

“Oh, sorry, I’m not up to speed on the cutting edge of Christmas-themed fictional character political correctness.”

 

“You should probably work on that.” Sugawara told him, collecting the ribbon from the floor. “So, you’re working here?” He asked, spotting the name tag.

 

Oikawa shrugged. “Paying off student loans one crappy job at a time. You?”

 

Sugawara’s mouth twitched almost imperceptibly before he broke out in a huge grin. “Same, obviously.”

 

“How the mighty have fallen, huh?”

 

“Sugarplum, we’re starting!” The manager’s sharp voice carried across the crowd.

 

“Ah, gotta go!” Sugawara gave a small wave, trying but failing to hide his embarrassment at the stupid name.

 

“When’s your lunch break?” Oikawa called after him.

 

“One. I’m already counting down the minutes.”

 

“Mine, too. Wanna go together and catch up?”

 

“Depends, will there be any more elf jokes?”

 

“You mean Santa’s Helper jokes?”

 

“Darn it.” Sugawara snapped his finger in mock frustration.

 

“Sugarplum!” The manager called again, voice tinged with annoyance.

 

“Yeah, sure!” Sugawara smirked and stuck his tongue out. “See you at one!”

 

“See you!”

 

The time passed by unnaturally slow. More than a few times, Sugawara suspected Santa’s Village was actually a façade for a wormhole to purgatory that stretched three hours into twenty. But finally, after two pools of vomit, a handful of over-protective Mothers, and innumerable tears and sniffling noses, his lunchtime came.

 

He was so exhausted, he hardly even fought when Oikawa convinced him it wasn’t worth taking the time to change back into his regular clothes. Although, as he sat with his head in his hands, regaling the tragic events of the day while trying to ignore the amused faces of random passerbys, he came to regret the decision.

 

“Mr. Refreshing isn’t good with kids? Shocking.”

 

“Honestly, I’m kind of surprised, too. Does that sound cocky?”

 

Oikawa took a sip of his soda. “Maybe, but judging from the way your first and second years acted, it’s really not surprising that you’d think you'd be able to handle it.”

 

“I guess,” Sugawara said, lifting his head from the table and rubbing his face with his palms. “So what have you been up to these past couple of years?”

 

“Going to school, working—nothing interesting.”

 

Sugawara straightened up. “You’re not playing volleyball?”

 

Oikawa sniffed and scratched his nose. “No, but I coach.”

 

“I just thought—“

 

“Well, you thought wrong,” Oikawa snapped, banging his fist on the table. He stared from his clenched fist to Sugawara’s stunned face before shaking his head and laughing weakly. “Sorry, it’s just—I had knee troubles, so—“

 

Sugawara nodded silently in understanding. “I’m sorry.”

 

“Don’t be, I—I’m basically over it.”

 

Sugawara raised his eyebrows in disbelief. “Well, look on the bright side, it could be worse.”

 

“How?” Oikawa asked, taking a bite of his hamburger.

 

“You could be the one dressed in tights and pixie boots.”

 

Oikawa’s face softened and he almost choked on his food as he tried to suppress a laugh. “That hard up for cash, huh?” He asked when he gained control.

 

Sugawara let his head fall back to the table and sighed. “You have no idea. Although, I don’t know how much longer I’ll keep the job if every kid cries at the sight of me. Who knew crowd duty involved so much vomit.”

 

“I kept hearing rumors of the awful, kid-repulsing elf, but I didn’t actually believe it could be true.”

 

“Rub it in, why don’t you?”

 

“No, seriously, I thought I was about to see a riot. What are you even doing—threatening to kill their puppies and kitties? Steal their presents? Lace their candy with arsenic?”

 

Sugawara groaned dramatically. “I just did what they told me to do. ‘Smile, laugh, and if they ask for a gift, refer to the script!’” He intoned in a sing song-y voice, waving his finger around to the tune.

 

“Script?”

 

“Yeah,” Sugawara said, digging the folded paper from his pocket and handing it to Oikawa. “I guess they’re scared we’ll say something too adult or insensitive or—I don’t know, they just gave us a list of key phrases to use.”

 

Oikawa’s eyebrows knitted in concentration as he scanned the paper. “’Hello and welcome to Santa’s Village. Get in line and we’ll have a snowball of a time!’ Are they even serious with this?”

 

“I know.” Sugawara whined. “I know, it’s so bad.”

 

“’Did you know that the Elfabet has no L?’ Really?!” Oikawa gaped, looking way too thrilled. “I feel nauseous already!”

 

“God, just stop. I can’t listen to this. It’s bad enough having to say it.”

 

“You’ve gotta let me re-write these.”

 

“What?”

 

“I’m good with kids, I’ve been coaching a long time, I can totally make them not vomit at the sound of your Christmas puns.”

 

“I don’t know…”

 

“Oh c’mon, don’t be a _snow_ flake.” Oikawa goaded, throwing his head back with a laugh. “Oh man, I sleigh myself.”

 

“You.” Sugawara said, pointing an accusing finger. “You are awful, and also, I can’t stray from script or I’ll get in trouble.”

 

“So maybe you get in trouble, it’ll just be a slap on the wrist, who cares?”

 

“The manager scares me.”

 

“You have to take initiative. That was your problem in volleyball, too. Be aggressive, Suga, be the best elf you can be!”

 

Sugawara mimed wiping a tear from his eye. “So inspiring,” he said in a fake choked whisper, theatrically clutching his hands to his chest.

 

“Sh-shut up, do you want my help or not?”

 

“Like you can help yourself.” Suga shook his head, taking a sip of his drink. “Once a captain, always a captain.”  

 

Oikawa ignored him. “Look, I’ll write you a new script tonight, and then you can use it tomorrow. If you get in trouble, I’ll take responsibility, but you won’t.”

 

“What makes you so sure?”

 

“The manager likes me, it’ll be fine.”

 

“Of course she does.” Sugawara sighed, remembering the way women flocked around Oikawa at the tournaments. “And what do I owe you for this act of generosity?”

 

Oikawa closed his mouth and blinked. Sugawara thought he looked very much like his cat. “I don’t know, nothing?”

 

“No, no, I’m not gonna be indebted to you. Think of something.”

 

Oikawa scratched his nose. “How about a drink? At the Soapbox, it’s only a few blocks from the mall.”

 

Sugawara exhaled deeply and nodded. “Fine. You win” He relented, glancing at the food court clock and wilting. “Time to go back to Satan’s Village.”

 

“Nice,” Oikawa snorted, crumpling up his trash. “What does that make you, a demon?”

 

“I prefer ‘fallen angel,’ actually.”

 

“Oh, my bad.”

 

“Just try to be more sensitive in the future.,” Sugawara winked before breaking character and laughing. “You know, it’s funny.” He added as an afterthought when they neared the storefront.

 

“What?” Oikawa asked.

 

“I wasn’t sure if you knew my name.”

 

Oikawa looked at him, appearing momentarily surprised before smirking. “Well, of course I do, Sugarplum! It’s right there on your name tag!”

 

Sugawara turned red. “That’s not what I—“

 

“Sugarplum, lunch is over, get back to the line.” The manager yelled, waving her arm furiously.

 

“See you later!” Oikawa called after him. “Be nice to the kids, we don’t need a mutiny on the first day of the season!”

 

Sugawara rolled his eyes to the garland festooned ceiling and smirked. Maybe these two months wouldn’t be so bad, after all.  


	2. Chapter 2

For some reason unknown to him, Sugawara ended up getting to work early again. So early, in fact, he had to pace outside the barred up storefronts with the elderly mall walkers.

 

“It’s nice to see someone excited to get to work, for once.” The manager walked up to him, decked out in a different Mrs. Claus dress than the day before—this one comprised of rich green velvet and swirling golden embroidery. “Those teenagers are always late—complaining about ‘oppressive hours’ and ‘not enough breaks.” She mimicked in a high, whining voice, mouth falling into a scowl. “Maybe they’d get more breaks if they weren’t thirty minutes late every day!” She declared. “Unfortunately, they’re the only ones willing to make themselves look like fools for so little pay. No offense.”

 

“N-none taken.”

 

“The job’s not so bad. I mean, for one, any idiot can put on an el—Santa’s Helper costume and make kids laugh. And there’s always the chance for job advancement if you catch the regional manager’s eye. Come to think of it, you’re not trying to take my job are you?” She asked, glasses glinting as she pulled the store key out of her pocket. Sugawara could see the faintest spark of competiveness in her eye. He would know, he had seen it for so many years in the eyes of his teammates and competitors alike.

 

“No,.” He said immediately, shaking his head and holding up his hands for emphasis. “No, this is just a one time thing. I’m gone after December.”

 

“Good, because between you and me, you’d never be able to handle the pressure.”

 

Sugawara laughed weakly.

 

“Doesn’t mean you shouldn’t aim for Santa’s Assistant, though. I think you have a real shot, especially with the initiative you showed yesterday with the queue lines.”

 

“Uh, thanks.” He said, nodding a hello when his two fellow crowd duty elves walked up to meet them.

 

Sugawara and Twinkle loitered outside the bathroom while Merry got changed, Twinkle slumped with his back against the wall and Sugawara standing a few feet away from him.

 

“I don’t think I can take another day of this.” Twinkle sighed, picking at a zit on his chin.

 

“Why’d you take this job, anyway?” Sugawara asked, folding his arms over his chest and scanning the room for a familiar face.

 

“It was her idea.” Twinkle said, thumbing towards the door. “She said we’d make some easy money during the winter so we could take a vacation to the beach over summer break.”

 

“That sounds fun.”

 

“Yeah, but it’s not ‘easy money’ when you suck with kids. And parents. When you suck with people in general.”

 

Sugawara nodded with his eye closed, sucking in a deep breath before turning towards his coworker. “Negativity be gone!” He shouted, feigning punching Twinkle in the chest, but in reality only lightly tapping him.

 

Twinkle stared with wide eyes, blinking a few times before twitching and breaking out in a huge laugh. “What was that?”

 

“Just something I picked up in high school. It has an 88% success rate!” Sugawara smiled, triumphantly planting his hands on his hips.

 

“What happens the other 12% of the time?” Twinkle asked.

 

Sugawara gave a stilted chuckle and shivered. “Daichi tries to scare me with his captain face. It doesn’t matter, I’m…mostly immune.”

 

“Daichi?”

 

“Anyway,” Sugawara continued, ignoring the question, “it’s okay to recognize your shortcomings, as long as you don’t let them discourage you from trying your best.”

 

“Yeah, I guess that’s true. You’re pretty smart, Sugarplum!”

 

Sugawara scrunched his eyes and let his head drop to the side with a sigh. “It’s Sugawara.”

 

“Ha. Right, sorry. I’m Ken. My girlfriend’s—well—Mari.”

 

“She seems to do pretty well with the kids.”

 

Ken nodded fervently. “Yeah, she’s amazing. She’s kind, a-and smart, and doesn’t take crap from anyone. Did you see the way she stood up to the manager yesterday?”

 

“She’s definitely strong-willed.” Sugawara agreed.

 

“Oh totally, you have no idea. It’s like sometimes I just look at her and I’m all like ‘woah,’ you know? Like, I’d be happy to even just be friends with her. Is that pathetic?”

 

“No, not at all.” Sugawara hummed in understanding. He knew what it was like to admire someone so deeply and so completely that even two years out of high school, he was still trying to convince himself that just being in his presence was enough, that any relationship—even an unrequited one—was better than no relationship at all.

 

He stuffed his hands in his pockets and looked up at the ceiling. ‘ _How did it come to this?_ ’ He asked himself for probably the millionth time.

 

“Okay, boys, all yours.” Mari said, pushing out of the bathroom door with her hat slung over her shoulder.

 

Sugawara nodded his thanks, turning to go into the bathroom when cold fingers grabbed the back of his neck. “Ahh!” he yelped, immediately jumping away and hoisting his shoulders to shield the bare skin between his hair and shirt collar.

 

“Good morning,” Oikawa intoned with a singsong voice, flashing a peace sign with a smile.

 

“What was that for?” Sugawara huffed, slapping down Oikawa’s hand.

 

Oikawa shrugged dramatically with his arms out at his sides. “You were looking too gloomy so I had to snap you out of it.”

 

“I’m fine,” Sugawara told him.

 

“If you say so.”

 

“I mean, I’m not exactly excited for Christmas Vomit 2: the Reckoning, but I’ll manage.”

 

"That's good." Oikawa grinned.

 

“So…” Sugawara prompted, not wanting to seem expectant, but curious about the state of his script all the same.

 

“So?”

 

“Um…” Sugawara suddenly felt extremely self-conscious staring at Oikawa’s blank face. He started to wonder if maybe he had imagined the conversation from yesterday. “Did—did you work on the script?”

 

“Oh, that.” Oikawa laughed, scratching his nose. “Yeah, I didn’t do it.”

 

Sugawara just stood there, struggling to figure out what to say while the sounds of Christmas music and screaming children filled the silence between them. “Well, that’s—okay…?”

 

“Don’t look so confused, Suga,” Oikawa said, patting Sugawara on the shoulder. “I worked on it, but then I realized—“

 

“What?”

 

"Well, I realized that I'm not that great at talking to kids, either."

 

Sugawara slapped a hand on his forehead. “You only just now realized that?”

 

Oikawa laughed and ran a hand through his hair. "Well, I deal with them a lot. It's just—we’re usually talking about volleyball."

 

"So without volleyball, you're useless?"

 

"Hey, I'm not useless, Suga! What a rude thing to say!" Oikawa protested.

 

"But in talking to kids—?"

 

"Oh, yeah. With that I am." Oikawa admitted easily. "Totally useless."

 

Sugawara sighed and then shook his head, rediscovering his smile. "It's okay, it's not a big deal. I'll manage on my own, but thanks for trying."

 

Oikawa grabbed him by the shoulder. "Hey, don't give up yet! I have another idea."

 

“I think I’ve had enough of your ideas.” Sugawara said, shaking away Oikawa's grip.

 

“But this is actually a good one, I promise!”

 

“Sugarplum, hurry up and get changed, the line’s already forming.” The manager called, somehow knowing he wasn't dressed despite the fact that she hadn't looked up from preening the tree decorations in the past twenty minutes.

 

Sugawara sighed and looked from the manager to Oikawa’s expectant face. “Fine. Tell me about it during lunch.”

 

“It’s a date.” Oikawa grinned. “Good luck today!”

 

“Same to you.” He nodded determinedly. Smiling despite himself as Oikawa waved and headed towards the gift-wrapping kiosk.

 

It didn’t seem possible, but somehow the store was even busier than it had been the day before. The manager had explained that the early season was always crowded with parents trying to get pictures to send with their Christmas letters, but even still, Sugawara had been naively complacent in believing he wouldn’t see true pandemonium until December hit.

 

He was wrong. Dead wrong. He tried to stay positive, though, to smile through it all and be a pillar of strength for his coworkers, but after the fourth time excusing himself to the bathroom to wash vomit off his boots—even Sugawara was about ready to throw in the towel.

 

He puffed out his cheeks as he ran the shoe under the faucet, trying to stretch out his strained facial muscles. When he was satisfied that the boot was sufficiently puke free, he rung it out and grabbed his phone out of his locker so he could browse the Internet while holding it under the hand dryer. He leaned his shoulder on the button to activate the warm rush of air and clicked on the home screen.

 

He was immediately greeted with a text message. Smiling, he typed a reply, giggling quietly to himself when another message pinged through. He stayed there longer than he knew he rightfully should, texting back and forth, leaning his head on the cold, metal hand dryer to try and cool his inflamed cheeks. The boot had long since dried when the manager tapped twice on the door and asked him what was taking so long.

 

He stashed his phone back in his locker and left the bathroom, bowing slightly in apology. “Sorry, sorry, it took a while to dry.”

 

“It’s fine, just get back over there!”

 

“Yes,” Sugawara said and headed back to the bustling crowd. Even from a distance, he could see the look of pure terror on Ken’s face as he was cornered by a crowd of irritated parents.

 

He neared Santa’s Village, his mind a million miles away—wondering whether he had received any new text messages—when he collided with someone’s shoulder. He stumbled over his feet, only to be righted when the same person grabbed him by the collar of his velvet tunic.

 

“What’s up with you?” Oikawa asked, releasing his hold when he was sure Sugawara had his footing.

 

Sugawara smiled stupidly and scratched the back of his head. “Uh, sorry, I was too focused on the crowd.”

 

Oikawa quirked an eyebrow and put his face uncomfortably close to Sugawara’s. “What are you so happy about?”

 

Sugawara jumped back and laughed awkwardly. “I-I’m just feeling really motivated!”

 

Oikawa looked like he wanted to say more, but instead he put a hand on his hip and grinned. “Well, okay then, that’s the spirit! Just don’t go plowing down any children, they’re small and fragile.”

 

“Yeah, I’ll try not to.” Sugawara said with a thumbs up. “See you in an hour.”

 

“See you,” Oikawa said, watching with curiosity as his friend rejoined the fray.

 

Things didn’t get any better after Sugawara returned. Ken had finally reached his limit, breaking down into tears when yet another parent told him off for not being able to tell her how long the wait would be. He had been excused to the bathroom with Mari in tow for comfort, leaving Sugawara to attend their section alone. He did his best to keep a smiling face when—for the hundredth time—he explained that he was sorry they were so busy but that the line shouldn’t take more than an hour.

 

He got his fair share of sneers and harsh words, but it was made easier by Oikawa passing by at random intervals, shouting “defense, defense,” until the manager chased him off with a giant plastic candy cane.

 

When it was finally time for lunch, Sugawara didn’t even mention changing his clothes. He just trudged out to the food court in his jingling boots, pre-packaged lunch in hand, and slumped into an empty seat. “Forget running laps. If coaches want to teach endurance they should have their players deal with angry parents and their bored kids for an hour.” Sugawara moaned, taking a bite of his sandwich. “How are things in gift wrapping?”

 

“Not so bad.” Oikawa shrugged. “My time will come in December, though, don’t you worry.”

 

“I see you laughing it up with girls over there, I hope you get a hundred paper cuts.”

 

Oikawa gave an exaggerated frown. “That’s cruel, Suga, I thought you were supposed to be a nice guy.”

 

“Only till you get to know me." Sugawara waved his hand dismissively.

 

Oikawa laughed and bit into his apple. “Maybe that’s true.” He said, chewing thoughtfully. “I’d say it’s probably the opposite for me.”

 

“Really?” Sugawara asked, rubbing his wrist under his nose and sniffing. “I never thought you were a bad guy. Intense on the court, maybe, but—“

 

Oikawa shrugged. “I could be worse if I wanted to.”

 

“Are you bragging, or—“

 

They laughed in unison and Sugawara felt some of his fatigue lift. “So what’s your new and improved plan for script betterment?”

 

“Ah!” Oikawa exclaimed, straightening up as if he had forgotten. “Well…” He started. “What would you thinking about being the assistant coach for volleyball practice tonight?”

 

“Assistant coach?” Sugawara repeated back, confused. “I guess that’s fine, but I don’t understand how that’s going to help.”

 

“The kids I teach are around the same age as the ones getting pictures. I figured we could ask them what kind of things would _not_ make them want to puke all over your shoes."

 

Sugawara nodded slowly and took a sip from his water bottle. “I guess that make sense, I’m not sure if I’ll be much help during practice, though.”

 

“Hey, don’t say that, Suga!” Oikawa protested. “You have a really ordinary toss, it’s perfect for teaching.”

 

Sugawara scrunched up his face in an irritated smile and wilted forward. “G-gee, thanks.”

 

“Th-that’s not what I—” Oikawa waved his hands around frantically. “What I meant is that your toss is _reliable_. You know that it’ll come to you at the same height and speed every time, that’s a really valuable skill.”

 

“It’s okay.” Sugawara laughed. “I know I’m not especially talented, there’s a reason I was replaced by a—“ He stopped when a grape hit him in the forehead.

 

“No, Suga. Bad, Suga.” Oikawa said, lobbing another grape at his head. “I worded things badly, that was my fault, but having a pity party for one is rude when you’re in such great company.”

 

“It can be a pity party for two, if you’d prefer.”

 

“No.” Oikawa sighed, eyes looking suddenly distant. “It’s boring.” he concluded, eyes snapping back into focus as he threw another grape.

 

“I said I’d go, but throw another grape and I might change my mind.” Sugawara warned with a smile, lobbing one of the grapes back.

 

“You’re no fun at all.” Oikawa teased, tossing a grape in his mouth this time.

 

* * *

 

“Sam, bend more when you receive the ball.” Oikawa instructed from the sideline, catching the rogue volleyball under his foot. “One more toss and then we’re going to cool down, okay?” He asked, throwing the ball over to Sugawara.

 

“Okay.” Sam nodded, swiping the sweat off his forehead with his chubby, freckled arm.

 

Sugawara waited till he had his attention and then tossed the ball over, cheering when Sam bent into his knees and received it perfectly, sending it sailing over the net. “Good receive!” He smiled, holding up his hand when the boy ran over for a high five.

 

“Just like that!” Oikawa agreed, beaming proudly. “Okay, everyone, walk two laps around the gym and then huddle up!”

 

A dozen small, energetic bodies moved to pace the court, their high-pitched voices rambling on about superheroes and sports and new phone apps while Sugawara retrieved the discarded volleyball and joined Oikawa.

 

“Thanks again for the help today, Suga, I think the kids enjoyed you being here.”

 

Suga grinned sheepishly. “I actually had more fun than I thought I would.” He admitted.

 

“Well, you’re welcome to join any time. I can always use a second pair of eyes.”

 

“Are you sure about that?” Sugawara asked. “This gym isn’t too far from my apartment, I might take you up on it.”

 

Oikawa quirked an eyebrow and pulled on the back of Sugawara’s hair. “You’ve missed it, haven’t you?”

 

‘What?” Sugawara asked, laughing as he slapped Oikawa’s hand away.

 

Oikawa folded his arms in front of his chest. “Volleyball.”

 

Sugawara flushed and shrugged. “Well, I—“

 

“We’re all done with the laps, Coach!” One of the boys interrupted, leading the brigade of children as he slumped on the bench.

 

Oikawa turned to Sugawara. “We’ll finish this conversation later.” He said in a low whisper, making Sugawara blush from the feeling of his warm breath on his ear.

 

“Good practice today!” He said, clapping his hands together once for emphasis. “Now why don’t we all thank assistant coach Sugawara again for his help.”

 

“Thank you, assistant coach Sugawara.” The boys said in unison, a couple of them breaking off in giggles before they could finish.

 

“Since he was nice enough to help you today,” Oikawa continued, “there’s something you could do to help him in return.”

 

“Why does he have gray hair?” One of the boys called out, eliciting a rumble of low giggles from the others.

 

“How many of you have ever gone to see Santa before?” Oikawa continued, ignoring them.

 

Almost all the hands shot up, one of the younger boys started wiggling so hard he almost fell off the bench. “Um. Um. I went with my baby sister and she—he—his breath smelled _real bad_.”

 

Oikawa glanced at Sugawara with a smile when a few of the other kids started chiming in about the times they’d had a Santa with bad breath. “Okay, okay.” He said loudly, quieting the room. “Do you remember the elves?”

 

The kids blinked at him, a few scrunching their noses, clearly preferring to talk about Santa and the state of his oral hygiene.

 

Finally, one of the kids piped up. “What about when he goes to that store and he’s all like ‘yummy fruit spray’ and then—then he sprays the perfume in his mouth and he’s all,” the boy stuck his tongue out and mimed trying to wipe it off.

 

They all laughed and then another joined in. “An-an fen he put in da bowl M&Ms an ice-cream an pasta.”

 

“M&Ms and pasta!?” One of the boys said, clutching his stomach and pretending to barf.

 

“And worms and bugs and doodoo!” Another one added.

 

“What are they talking about.” Sugawara asked quietly, straining to speak through a frozen smile.

 

“Er—a movie I think?” Oikawa replied, trembling from trying to keep a straight face.

 

“So what do you think about the elves when you go to see Santa?” Oikawa asked, trying to reign in the conversation again.

 

“Stupid!” One of the boys yelled immediately.

 

“Koji, don’t say that.” Oikawa chided. “Anyone else?”

 

“They ask dumb questions a lot.” One of the calmer boys said. “Like how school is or if we’ve been good—it’s annoying.”

 

“So what would you prefer to be asked?”

 

The boy shrugged. “I don’t know, I’d rather talk about things that interest me, like games or the Internet or something.”

 

Oikawa nodded. “That makes sense. Anyone else?”

 

None of them replied, too absorbed in their individual conversations. “Okay, I think I’ve borrowed your attention spans enough for today.” Oikawa said. “You’re free to go.”

 

The kids left in a rush, a few coming over with their Moms to say a few words to Oikawa and thank Sugawara for his help before leaving.

 

“They’re quite a handful.” Sugawara exhaled when the last kid exited the gym.

 

“Yeah, sorry, I should’ve warned you.” Oikawa smirked, sticking his tongue out. “Which way are you headed?” He asked as he zipped up his windbreaker.

 

“Ah, my place is just a few blocks this way.” Sugawara said, gesturing down the street.

 

“I’m only a little bit past that, c’mon, I’ll walk you home.” Oikawa offered, locking up the gym behind them.

 

They walked in silence for a while, a light flurry of snowflakes lazily twirling through the cold night air. “Sorry, that wasn’t particularly helpful.” Oikawa said after a while.

 

Sugawara shook his head and laughed. “No, no, it was fun. And now I know I have to rent that movie.”

 

“I’ll watch it with you.” Oikawa offered, snorting when a snowflake blew up his nostril. “I mean, if that’s okay. I just think—since they all like it, I should probably…you know, watch it.”

 

“Yeah, sure.” Sugawara shrugged. “This is my place right up here.” He said, gesturing towards his apartment building. "Thanks for walking with me, see you tomorrow." He called over his shoulder as he headed up his walkway.

 

Oikawa raised his hand to wave. "It's a date." He said quietly, smirking as he continued his way home.


	3. Chapter 3

Despite the initial humiliation of his job, Sugawara was able to fall into a routine rather quickly. There were moments when he wanted to turn in his jingly boots and pointed hat and call it a day, but as the initial crowd died down and he was able to slip over to Oikawa’s booth to trade jokes and gossip, he found it hard to say he completely hated the work.

 

He had joined Oikawa for a couple other practices, and while the kids rarely supplied direct advice, he found himself better able to connect with the patrons. He listened intently during volleyball classes, stockpiling names of games and cartoons and popular Internet memes. He didn’t understand half the references, but it seemed like all he had to do was namedrop and the whining kids in line would go off on excited tangents about their interest of choice. In the past week, he’d even managed to get an approving nod from a parent or two. Sure, the crying toddlers and frustrated parents were still in the majority, but overall, he considered it a win.

 

“Sugarplum.” The manager called him over with a sharp whisper.

 

Sugawara glanced up from where he had been pretending to listen to a kid explain how to portal to the end in Minecraft. It seemed boring to just cheat your way to the end of a game, but he knew better than to question it.

 

“One second.” Sugawara told the girl, cutting her off just as she was describing some kind of ember dragon. He smiled apologetically and then turned around to address the manager. She stared at him with wide, urgent eyes, her inflamed cheeks a telltale sign of an impending mall Santa drama.

 

“What’s wrong?” Sugawara asked immediately.

 

“Shu-quiet!” She said, holding her index finger in front of her mouth. She curled her hand over and gestured him closer. “We have a code yellow.” She told him in a hushed voice when he reached her side.

 

“Code yellow?” Sugawara asked.

 

“Keep your voice down!” The manager yelped, instantly making every head in the crowd turn their way.

 

“Code yellow?” Sugawara repeated in an exaggerated whisper.

 

The manager shot him a dark look. “Didn’t you pay attention in orientation _at all_?”

 

Sugawara gave a sideways smile and shrugged. “Yes?”

 

The manager’s chin fell to her chest in defeat. “Okay, so maybe I made it up just now, but I thought it sounded better than saying a kid just friggin’ peed in Santa’s lap.”

 

Sugawara cringed. “Is there a spare Santa suit?”

 

“No, of course not, that would only be the logical thing.” She ground out, balling her hand into a tight fist. “I was overruled by higher ups, apparently having two Santa suits would be an ‘ _egregious waste of money_.’”

 

“What are we going to do then?” Sugawara asked, trying to refocus her attention to the problem at hand. “Close early?”

 

The manager put a hand to her chest, looking personally affronted. “What kind of defeatist attitude is that? Do you think the Santa’s Village crew of ‘07 jut left early when the central heating malfunctioned and the store flooded? Do you think the Santa’s Village crew of ’10 just gave up and went home when a bunch of troublemaking teenagers tried to tear down the display?”

 

Sugawara stared at her questioningly.

 

“The answer is no, they didn’t.”

 

Sugawara wilted and rubbed at his temples. “So what’s your plan?”

 

“The plan,” the manager started, breathing deeply. “The plan is this: I’ll take care of Santa’s suit and you keep the crowd under control till I’m back.”

 

“Keep them under control doing what exactly?”

 

The manager waved her hand dismissively. “I don’t know, you’re the one that deals with them every day. You can figure it out, can’t you?”

 

Sugawara knitted his eyebrows in confusion. “How is that a plan, again?”

 

“The kids like you.” The manager appealed.

 

Sugawara looked wearily at the squirming little bodies lined up between irritated adults. “They like Holly better.”

 

“Holly bribes them with candy canes.” The manager sniffed. “Sugarplum, please. We need you. _Christmas_ needs you.”

 

“You’ve been watching to many Christmas specials.”

 

“Maybe.” The manager shrugged. “But maybe seeing Santa is going to be the highlight of some kid’s holiday. I just—” The manager paused and Sugawara was slightly horrified to see tears in her eyes. “I wanted everything to be perfect.”

 

Sugawara looked over at Santa’s Village—at the hundreds of twinkling lights, the intricately painted backdrop, and lovingly placed props—and then he remembered that the manager had done it herself. She was overbearing and humorless and insisted on calling them all by their horribly embarrassing elf names, but maybe it wasn’t born from a control complex like he had originally thought. Maybe she just really cared.

 

He straightened his hat and put a hand on the manager’s shoulder. “I’ll do my best.” He told her. He felt the last of his pride slowly dwindling away, but somehow he was okay with it. This was familiar, the give and take—it was what it was like to be a team.

 

The manager looked up, her glasses shining under the fluorescents and her eyes instantly dry. “It won’t take more than 20 minutes, I promise.” She said, nodding sharply and taking off to the bathroom. She turned around after a few feet and stared him down with her typical sharp, humorless expression. “You are an asset to our team, Sugarplum.”

 

It was clearly a line from some manual on employee motivation, but Sugawara appreciated the sentiment all the same. He smiled warmly in thanks and the manager hesitated before continuing in her mission to restore Santa’s suit to its pre-urine state.

 

Sugawara rolled his shoulders and faced the crowd. He was tempted to hold his position and wait for the manager to return, but he knew that with this throng of bored kids and impatient adults, knowledge was key. No one would be happy to hear that there would be a delay, but it was better to tell them they’d have to wait 20 minutes for a costume change, rather than just let them wait aimlessly, wondering why the line wasn’t moving. Idle customers created gossip, and Sugawara didn’t need to be reassuring every other parent that, _no_ , Santa hadn’t been arrested, he didn’t come to work drunk, and he certainly hadn’t died.

 

Sugawara squinted his eyes in concentration, scanning the crowd once more before making a split-second decision and heading over to the gift wrap kiosk. He waited patiently behind a group of girls, watching with arms folded over his chest as Oikawa schmoozed. Finally, his eyes met Sugawara’s and he told the girls he really needed to get back to work, waving them off with an apologetic smile.

 

“Did you miss me?” Oikawa asked when the space in front of him had cleared.

 

“No. You’re awful.” Sugawara said, dramatically draping his upper body across the workstation. “The absolute worst.”

 

“Hey.” Oikawa whined, leaning down to flick the bell on Sugawara’s hat. “Iwaizumi is the mean one, Mr. Refreshing is supposed to be nice.”

 

Sugawara straightened back up and adjusted his hat. “Don’t blame him, you just bring out the worst in people.”

 

Oikawa smiled smugly and shrugged, “yet, you still come to see me every day, so there must be something likable about me.”

 

“Nah, I’m just doing it to be nice.”

 

“Is that so?”

 

“Yeah, Iwaizumi called me up and begged me to hang out with you.”

 

“That must’ve been hard to do since he doesn’t have your number.”

 

“As if he’d let a small detail like that stop him.”

 

They both broke off into laughter. The tension in Sugawara’s chest eased and he enjoyed his first genuine smile of the day. He was glad Oikawa was here. Even if he was teasing and prideful and somehow simultaneously too familiar yet stubbornly distant, his presence made Sugawara feel centered and less alone.  

 

“How’s everything in elf land?” Oikawa asked, looking over Sugawara’s shoulder to the steadily growing line of people.

 

Sugawara followed his line of sight, only to immediately regret it and turn back around, rubbing the back of his neck in tired defeat. “We’ve had a bit of an incident.”

 

“Oh?” Oikawa asked curiously. He was always thrilled to hear about the various dramas and traumas of Santa’s Village. He often complained about how boring things were in gift wrapping, but try as he might, Sugawara couldn’t convince him to trade positions.

 

“Yeah,” Sugawara affirmed with a heavy sigh, pulling his head up. “A code yellow.”

 

“Code—Santa got peed on?” Oikawa asked, eyes wide and amused.

 

“How could you _possibly_ know what that means?” Sugawara asked, flabbergasted.

 

Oikawa gave a cocky smile. “Well, it’s kinda obvious, isn’t it?”

 

Sugawara stared for a beat, an eyebrow quirked in disbelief, before turning his head and laughing. “Whatever you say. Anyway, I’ve been left in charge.”

 

“Oh, yeah?” Oikawa asked, looking a little too excited. He grabbed Sugawara by the shoulder and spun him around, gesturing at the crowd with his free hand. “Suga, everything the light touches is yours.”

 

Sugawara took in the Moms with their arms folded over their chests, the Dads checking their watches, and the kids hanging off the queue belts and yelling in hyper, impatient bursts. “Yeah, thanks, Lion King.”

 

“Oh please, Suga, no need to be formal. Just ‘King’ will do.”

 

Sugawara shook his head from side to side. “How does anyone put up with you?”

 

“I don’t know, you tell me,” Oikawa replied, eyes half-lidded with a shit-eating grin.

 

Sugawara ignored him, squinting his eyes slightly as he studied the crowd. “I have a plan for how to deal with this.”

 

Oikawa leaned forward on his elbows, marveling at Sugawara’s intense concentration in scanning the store. “Of course you do.”

 

“But I could really use your help to implement it.”

 

Oikawa shrugged and brushed a strand of hair back. “Of course you could.”

 

Sugawara turned around and addressed him. “So…do you think you could help me for half an hour?”

 

Oikawa straightened and pretended to be busy curling ribbon tails. “I don’t know, what if the stand gets a customer.”

 

“Don’t you have someone that can cover for you?”

 

“Maybe, but it’s kind of a hassle.”

 

Sugawara’s perpetual smile weakened a bit and he looked to the ceiling and hummed in understanding. “Okay.” He said with a sigh. “It was probably asking too much, anyway.”

 

Oikawa grabbed at Sugawara’s sleeve as he turned to leave. “Wait.”

 

Sugawara looked over his shoulder, eyebrow raised in an unspoken question.

 

“I’ll do it,” Oikawa said, putting down the scissors and gesturing over a younger looking girl to replace him. “It’s boring here.” He said with a shrug as the girl scurried over.

 

A smile creeped back onto Sugawara’s face and Oikawa pulled playfully at his hair in retaliation. “You’re almost as good as me at that.”

 

“At what?” Sugawara asked innocently, leading them back to Santa’s Village.

 

“You know.” Oikawa accused with a wink. “So what’s the plan?”

 

Sugawara smiled wide. “Volleyball.”

 

“Volleyball?” Oikawa asked, thoroughly confused.

 

“Okay, not really.” Sugawara admitted. “But same general principle. C’mon.” He said, pulling up a belt in the queue line and gesturing Oikawa to follow him to the center of Santa’s Village.

 

“Oh, hold on a sec,” Sugawara stopped in his tracks and scurried over to the corner of the display. Oikawa watched as he gestured over a younger looking coworker, exchanging a few words with him before taking his hat. “You’ll need this.” Sugawara said when he returned, pulling the hat over Oikawa’s hair.

 

“Ah!” Oikawa exclaimed, adjusting the hat and flicking at the bell. “We’re twins, Suga! We have to take a picture for Iwa-chan!” Oikawa reached for his phone in his pocket, moving to pull up the camera when Sugawara elbowed him in the stomach.

 

“Ah, s-sorry, Oikawa.” Sugawara clapped his shoulder as Oikawa sputtered and coughed.

 

“What was that for?” Oikawa whined, rubbing his stomach.

 

Sugawara gave a half-hearted laugh and scratched the back of his head. “I just—I’d rather there be no photo evidence.”

 

“Of what?”

 

Sugawara gave a pained smile and briefly averted his eyes. “The whole—” he gestured at his body. “Elf thing.”

 

Oikawa rolled his eyes and yanked Sugawara’s hat down over his face. “I don’t see what the big deal is,” he said, pocketing his phone. “But fine. So fill me in on the plan.”

 

Sugawara nodded gratefully and pointed at a metal bin of white foam balls. “Just help me move these to the center of the display and you’ll understand.”

 

Oikawa wrinkled his nose in confusion but complied, pulling the bin out of the corner while Sugawara moved to address the crowd.

 

“Excuse me!” Sugawara called, waving his hand to get everyone’s attention. “Excuse me!” He said again when the hum of conversation started to fade and heads turned towards him. “We’re so sorry about the delay, Santa had to make a quick costume change—“

 

“How long is _that_ going to take?" One of the Mom’s called out, readjusting her sleeping child on her hip.

 

“It shouldn’t be more than 20 minutes.” He assured her quickly.

 

“And what are we supposed to do till then?” Another voice spoke up, followed by a few whines of, “ _but I’m bored_!”

 

Sugawara smiled warmly and gestured at the wire bin. “Santa has decreed that, while we wait, we have a special North Pole snowball fight.”

 

“Snowball fight?” A girl asked, standing on her tiptoes to peer over the queue belt.

 

“But they’ll melt inside.” A boy told him, rubbing a sweatshirt sleeve over his runny nose.

 

“These are special snowballs.” Sugawara told them, picking up one of the foam balls and tossing it into the air. “They don’t melt.” He said, catching the ball and tossing it back into the bin. “And we don’t throw them at each other.”

 

“Then how do we have a snowball fight?” A kid from the middle of the crowd asked, so short that Sugawara couldn’t see him.

 

“Easy.” Sugawara said. “You each get three snowballs,” he held up three fingers for emphasis. “If you can manage to get the snowball into the bin without—Oi—er... _Jolly_ …stopping you, you win.”

 

“What do we win?”

 

“Sugawara opened his mouth and shrugged. “Uh—a candy cane and a free picture with Santa.” The parents perked up at that, looking slightly more interested in the proposition.

 

Sugawara turned from the crowd and smiled at Oikawa. “You better not lose or the manager’s going to kill me.” He managed through clenched teeth.

 

“ _Jolly_? Really?” Oikawa whispered back.

 

“Okay.” Sugawara turned back around and clapped his hands together. "Who wants to go first?”

 

A cluster of eager hands shot up and Sugawara called them up into a line, giving them each a chance to out strategize the scary, tall elf. Oikawa batted the foam balls away with ease, but it didn’t stop him from amping up the dramatics—rolling and jumping and chasing kids around when they tried to outsmart him by sprinting for the bin.

 

In the end, no one was able to get a toss past him, but if the giggling from the children and even a few adults was any indication, no one really seemed to care. Sugawara felt like they had only just started when the manager showed up on the outskirt of the partition, gesturing him over.

 

“Sorry that took so long.” She said, watching over Sugawara’s shoulder as Santa reclaimed his throne.

 

“Ah, it’s okay.” Sugawara looked over to where Oikawa was giving kids high fives and smiled. “It was actually kind of fun.”

 

The manager nodded fervently, her face still drawn and serious. “That’s the kind of attitude I need on this team.” She told him. “I think on Monday, it’s only fitting that you take your rightful place at Santa’s side.”

 

Sugawara held back a laugh and bowed slightly in appreciation. “Th-thanks.”

 

“You earned it!” The manager told him, before ducking under the queue belt to redirect the crowd.

 

“What was that about?” Oikawa asked, mouth disconcertingly close to Sugawara’s ear.

 

Sugawara jumped and pressed a hand to his chest. “Um…I guess I’ve been promoted.”

 

“Head elf?” Oikawa asked, eyes wide with excitement.

 

“Head elf.” Sugawara affirmed, pulling the elf hat off Oikawa’s head and smirking at the disheveled mess of hair it left behind.

 

“Well, you know what this calls for.” Oikawa said, combing back his hair.

 

“What?”

 

“A celebration!” Oikawa told him. “Or—at least, a few drinks after work. You owe me, anyway. Twice now.” He winked.

 

“You’re on.” Sugawara agreed easily, thanking Oikawa again before running off to return Ken’s hat.

 

* * *

 

“You’re such a spoil sport.” Oikawa whined for the tenth time as they walked to the bar.

 

Sugawara shrugged and stuffed his hands into his jacket pockets. “If you like the elf costume so much, why don’t _you_ wear it to the bar?”

 

“But it looks so cute on you, Suga.” Oikawa whined, hunching up his shoulders and winking.

 

Sugawara snorted and nuzzled his chin into his jacket to hide his smile. “Do you think it’s going to snow?” He asked, looking up at the low-hanging gray clouds.

 

Oikawa shrugged and blew out a breath, watching as a white mist formed in the air. “Probably.”

 

Sugawara sighed and stuck his leg under Oikawa’s feet, tripping him up.

 

‘What was that for?” Oikawa demanded.

 

“I hate the snow.” Sugawara pouted, pulling his hood up over his head.

 

Oikawa shook his head in disbelief. “And people say _I_ have a bad personality.”

 

“That’s because you do.” Sugawara reminded him, smiling in thanks when Oikawa held open the bar door for him.

 

“You’re lucky you’re cute.” Oikawa told him, taking a seat at the bar and ordering them two seasonal winter beers.

 

“How do you know if I’ll like it?” Sugawara asked when the bartender served them.

 

Oikawa grinned confidently. “Intuition. I’m good at reading people.”

 

Sugawara rolled his eyes and took a sip, the taste of malty beer with a hint of cinnamon rolled warmly across his tongue. “It’s good.” He said, because it was.

 

“See?” Oikawa asked, taking a sip of his own.

 

The two sat in silence for a while, drinking their beers, excising the winter chill from their limbs.

 

“You know,” Oikawa said finally, studying the way the neon lights reflected like planets in Sugawara’s glossy eyes. “You’ve changed.”

 

Sugawara tilted his head questioningly. “Oh? How so?”

 

Oikawa stared at him for a few long seconds, his fingertips itching with the desire to thread through that impossibly soft, silver hair. “You don’t smile as much.” He said finally, before taking a breath and looking from the bar to Sugawara’s face as he recollected his thoughts. “No, that’s not it.” He corrected. “I guess it’s that your smile looks fake. Like, really obnoxiously fake, actually.”

 

Sugawara looked shocked—or maybe sad—but he covered it immediately, throwing back his head with a laugh. “That’s just because I’m hanging out with you.”

 

“Har har.” Oikawa returned with a coy smile, taking a swig of his drink and licking the hoppy residue from his bottom lip.

 

“Anyway,” Sugawara said, tucking his hair behind his ear. “It’s not like you knew me well in high school, so how would you know what my smile looks like?” His eyes glittered mischievously as he took a gulp of his own drink.

 

Oikawa shrugged and let his head fall to the side as he considered the point. He watched Sugawara’s profile—the soft blue veins barely visible through his milky white skin, the way his long neck sloped gracefully into his collarbone, and the beauty mark that disappeared behind wrinkles whenever his smile reached his eyes. “I guess it just annoys me that I still don’t.”

 

Sugawara gave a sideways smile and pulled playfully at Oikawa’s ear. “So dramatic.” He teased.

 

“I don’t like not being able to read people.”

 

Sugawara hummed in response. "That’s surprisingly honest of you.”

 

Oikawa put a hand over his heart in mock disbelief. “I’m always honest!”

 

“Well, _I’m_ an open book.” Sugawara told him.

 

“Is that so?”

 

“It is so.” Sugawara affirmed with a nod.

 

“Prove it.” Oikawa said, straightening up with interest.

 

Sugawara snorted at Oikawa’s eagerness. “How?” He relented, his usual apprehension mitigated by the numbing comfort of alcohol.

 

“Truth or dare? Er—truth or truth?”

 

“Wait, I’m sorry, are we at a bar or a sleepover?”

 

“So you’re scared then?” Oikawa smirked.

 

Sugawara lowered his eyelids and leaned his head on his hand. “Terrified.” He cooed playfully. He looked so beautiful, lips curled in a flirtatious smile—bathed in green and blue light—that Oikawa felt his heart freeze in his chest.

 

“Oh—“ Oikawa coughed, thumping on his chest to try to regain composure. “Okay, so—game?”

 

Sugawara rolled his eyes and straightened up, taking a swallow of his drink. “Why not?”

 

“We’ll start with one that’s been on my mind, then.” He said, shoulders squared with anticipation. “Why did you really take the mall elf job?”

 

Sugawara’s eyes widened slightly. “Next question.” He said instantly before chugging the rest of his drink.

 

Oikawa leaned his head on his hand. “Hit a sore spot already, huh?” The words were meant to be sympathetic, but instead they seemed predatory—marred by Oikawa’s half-lidded eyes and cocky smile.

 

“Next question.” Sugawara repeated, face affixed with an unaffected smile.

 

Oikawa glared a little longer before finally giving up with a sigh and gesturing the bartender over for more drinks. “See? This is what I’m talking about.” He whined. “For a guy that’s so open about his weaknesses, you sure do seem to dislike being vulnerable.”

 

Sugawara visibly stiffened.

 

“Of course, being the first to point out your own flaws is kind of a way of avoiding vulnerability, too. Huh, Suga?”

 

Sugawara didn’t answer. His thoughts were miles away, traversing the distance between his painful past choices and his painful present ones.

 

Oikawa glanced up from his drink to Sugawara, watching with deep interest as his ears turned fire red and his smile faded into a pensive frown.

 

“It’s not really that easy, though.” Sugawara said carefully, eyes fixed straight ahead, his voice the most serious Oikawa had ever heard it. “It isn’t possible to avoid getting hurt.” He said, biting his bottom lip and curling his fingers over his thighs. He took a stuttering breath and turned to Oikawa, face adorned with a close-eyed, toothy smile. “We should know, after all those dramatic volleyball matches.”

 

Oikawa leaned back in his chair and gave a long-suffering sigh. “Thank god.”

 

Sugawara wrinkled his nose in question and blinked. “What?”

 

“I thought you were going to cry for a second there.” He said, laying his hand over his eyes.

 

Sugawara dropped his head forward to hide his blush and ran his fingers through his hair. “I’m really not that fragile.”

 

“You’re not.” Oikawa agreed easily. “Actually, you’re kind of mean. And violent.”

 

Sugawara snickered into his knuckles.

 

“See? You don’t even disagree.”

 

“It’s hard to disagree with the truth.” Sugawara said, taking a gulp of his drink.

 

Oikawa watched him, amazed with the way all the room’s light seemed to throw itself around Sugawara’s head, collecting into a gauzy green halo. “I like knowing things about you.” He said, leaning forward to brush a curl from his forehead.

 

Sugawara looked at him, blinking slowly, eyes dark with lust. Oikawa was slightly taken aback—he had expected him to pull back or to laugh off his advances. He didn’t, though, so Oikawa leaned in, letting the swaying bar music and dizzying alcohol lead him to Sugawara’s soft mouth.

 

He nipped at his bottom lip, sliding out of his bar stool and wrapping a hand around the back of his head to deepen the kiss. He threaded his hands through Sugawara's silver hair, steadying himself as he pushed his tongue into his mouth, limbs becoming loose and clumsy from the intoxicating taste of beer and the hint of something sweet.

 

Oikawa pulled away, slightly regretful from the loss of warmth. “I have an idea,” he said, voice thick with lust. Sugawara didn’t argue, so he grabbed him by the arm and pulled them into the single person bathroom, only taking the time to lock the door before grabbing Sugawara by the belt loops and pulling their hips together.

 

His heart thumped in his ear as he pressed his lips to Sugawara’s in a crushing kiss. He sucked on his bottom lip, nipping and gently pulling till his lips were red and slick and plump. He pushed the kiss deeper, forcing Sugawara against the wall and flicking his tongue in the hot safety of his mouth, desperate to find the source of that tantalizing sweetness.

 

Oikawa pulled his mouth away and ran his tongue over Sugawara’s jawline, gently biting at his neck. Sugawara gave a strangled moan in response and Oikawa nuzzled his face into his neck, dragging his teeth over the delicate skin and reaching down blindly to unbutton his jeans. Heat curled into his belly as he pulled down the zipper, he could feel Sugawara through his thin cotton boxers—hot and hard.

 

Oikawa slid his hands between Sugawara’s loosened jeans and his hips and pulled away to look at him, eyes hungry and pleading and dark. “Is this okay?” He asked.

 

Sugawara choked on a breath and shuddered, licking his swollen lips before nodding fervently.

 

Oikawa wasted no time in wrenching the jeans down, tracing his nails down the constellation of moles on Sugawara’s pale thighs and shivering in anticipation when goose pimples blossomed across the warm flesh. “This is your reward,” he grabbed Sugawara through his boxers and squeezed hard, smirking when his hips bucked in response. “For getting top elf.”

 

“Shut up.” Sugawara panted, voice deep and deadly. The sound of it made Oikawa flush with heat.

 

Oikawa tugged over Sugawara’s underwear, running a thumb across the pre-cum on the tip of his dick and switching to his mouth when Sugawara gave an excited whimper.

 

Sugawara’s head tilted back, his mouth contorted in overwhelming pleasure and misery as Oikawa’s tongue traced the length of his dick. He grasped onto Oikawa’s hair, thighs trembling and threatening to collapse under his weight as Oikawa’s soft lips stretched over the head, sucking it and flicking it with his tongue.

 

Sugawara’s hearing was tunneling—all his focus trained on maintaining his pleasure as long as possible—but even _he_ noticed when Oikawa’s hungry little grunts were drowned out by the chirping melody of his text notifications.

 

“Ignore it.” He managed to say when he felt Oikawa hesitate. And he did, until the fourth time it went off.

 

“Fuck.” Oikawa growled, turning his attention from Sugawara’s dick to pull the phone from the pocket of the jeans pooled around his ankles. He opened the texts before Sugawara had the state of mind to stop him, scanning the message and looking up at Sugawara with a questioning glare.

 

“Daichi says he can’t wait to see you, and 'Kimi decided not to go home so you can all hang out together during Christmas. Isn’t that great?’”

 

Sugawara leaned his head back and ran both hands through his hair. “G-great.”

 

“Do you want me to tell him you say so?”

 

“No!” Sugawara replied quickly when his phone chimed again.

 

“He wants to know the name of your hotel again.” Oikawa relayed, knitting his eyebrows in confusion. “Doesn’t Daichi go to school in Tokyo?”

 

Sugawara’s breath had started to even out and he brushed his wrist over his forehead. “Yeah.”

 

“Why get a hotel room, why not just stay with him?”

 

Sugawara’s shoulders drooped in defeat and he covered his face with his hand. “H-his girlfriend doesn’t want me to.” He said, sticking his tongue out and smiling, as if he thought it was all just a big joke. The insincerity of it made Oikawa’s stomach twist.

 

“Why not?” He asked.

 

Sugawara’s smile faltered. He couldn’t meet Oikawa’s eyes. He looked to the ceiling, to the cracked porcelain sink, and then down to the bunched up jeans around his ankles. He reached down and pulled them up over his fading erection.

 

“Because she knows I hav— _had_ a crush on him.”

 

“You’ve met her?”

 

“No.” Sugawara said, jaw flexing from clenched teeth. “She knows because Daichi knows—because I told him. Before he left for school.”

 

“Daichi’s not gay then?”

 

“He’s bi.” Sugawara said, the implication of those words hanging heavy as a storm cloud.

 

“So he just doesn’t like _you_.” Oikawa clarified. He knew he shouldn’t have, but he felt almost triumphant. He had figured something out about the enigmatic Sugawara, he was ahead of the game. He was winning.

 

Sugawara didn’t yell at him, he didn’t break down in tears or kick a hole in the wall like Oikawa thought he himself might have done. Instead, Sugawara just gave a half smile and swallowed thickly. “Not that way, anyway.”

 

“But you’re still going to visit him?”

 

“We’re friends.”

 

“Going to Tokyo and renting a hotel room is kind of expensive to do for a friend.” Oikawa said, absentmindedly tracing circles into the greasy cell phone screen. “How are you even paying for—“ he paused, turning the phone face down on his thigh and looking up at Sugawara. “You can’t be serious. Does Daichi know?”

 

Sugawara closed his tired eyes and wished he could disappear into the wall. “Does Daichi know what?”

 

“Does he know that you’re spending your vacation time dressing up in a stupid costume just so you can afford to visit him?”

 

Sugawara opened his mouth then closed it again, reconsidering. “He doesn’t need to know.”

 

“Why, because it’s insane?”

 

“It’s not.” Sugawara said, but his voice belied his uncertainty.

 

“Oh no?” Oikawa grunted as he pulled himself up from the floor. “Would you do this for me? What about Asahi? Tanaka? Nishinoya?”

 

Sugawara didn’t answer. He couldn’t. He knew it was irrational to the act the way he had been, but he wasn’t ready to confront reality. He was good at handling rejection, whether in school, volleyball, or otherwise—he had always taken it in stride. But this was totally different. Daichi didn’t love him, not in a romantic sense, anyway. That wasn’t something to learn from, it wasn’t something he could improve on and try again—it just _was_.

 

Daichi didn’t love him.

 

Daichi would _never_ love him.

 

It hurt him in new, creative ways whenever his mind decided to drift to that forbidden place, and it did so every day—rehashing his rejection with any minor failure. Forget to do his laundry? _Daichi doesn’t love you_. Trip over his shoelaces in public? _Daichi doesn’t love you_. Make up an excuse to his parents for why he can’t spend Christmas with them this year? _Daichi definitely does not—and will never—love you_.

 

“I can’t believe it,” Oikawa scoffed, eyes sharp and measuring and his chin slightly raised. “Were you thinking about him?”

 

“What?” Sugawara asked, blinking back his negative thoughts.

 

Oikawa reached to brush Sugawara’s cheek with his thumb, but pulled back when Sugawara flinched at the movement. “Daichi,” he clarified impatiently. “Were you thinking about Daichi’s mouth on your dick just now?”

 

“I—“ Sugawara started, cheeks inflaming.

 

“Because that’s fine.” Oikawa told him, putting Sugawara’s phone back in the pocket and patting it twice. “It’s pathetic, but it’s fine.”

 

“I’m not—I’m,” Sugawara struggled to speak.

 

“This doesn’t mean anything.” Oikawa told him.

 

Sugawara stared at Oikawa silently, eyes clouded and unreadable.

 

Oikawa sighed and spit on the filthy bathroom floor. “I’m not in the mood, anymore.” He said, turning on his heel and waving a dismissive hand over his shoulder. “I’m gonna catch a cab, you’ve got the tab, right?”

 

Sugawara didn’t have the chance to nod before Oikawa had left. He flinched when the door slammed, heaving a heavy breath and folding his hands over his forehead. “Way to screw that up,” he whispered to himself, leaning over at the waist and digging his fingernails into his hairline.

 

He left the bar shortly after Oikawa, after he had collected himself and paid the tab. He didn’t try for the bus. hHe didn’t think he could manage being in a confined space with anyone at that moment—not with the threat of small talk looming. Anyway, the cold felt good on his too hot skin. Sugawara dug his phone from his pocket and opened Daichi’s text. Lazy, white snowflakes drifted from the sky, glistening like stars in the cell’s bright illumination. He read the messages again and again until the words blurred, his phone screen mottled by melted snowflakes and salty tears.


	4. Chapter 4

Sugawara lay in his bed, snuggled in a nest of blankets and watching as a deluge of fat, fluffy snowflakes poured from the sky. He pulled his phone from where it was hidden under his cat’s fat belly and opened Daichi’s contact.

 

**To: Daichi  
From: Suga**

**I feel like I’m in a snowglobe.**

 

He closed the phone and laid it face down on his stomach. Time seemed to stop as he waited for a reply. The quiet of his room and the silent falling snow did little to shield him from his thoughts. He lifted a finger and traced a clumsy snowflake into the frosted glass. He stared at it for a while then sighed and ran his palm across it—erasing his work. The phone vibrated on his belly and he sighed at that, too.

 

**To: Suga  
From: Daichi**

**Send it our way! We haven’t had snow yet this season!**

 

****To: Daichi  
From: Suga** **

**You can have it. I hate the snow.** **(** **￣** **︿** **￣** **)**

 

**To: Suga  
From: Daichi**

**You’re such an old man. That gray hair is catching up to you.**

****To: Daichi  
From: Suga** **

**Suck it.** **(** **◡** **‿** **◡** **✿** **)**

 

Sugawara smiled warmly at the phone for a few seconds before groaning and covering his eyes with his hand. “Why can’t you just be mean to me?” His cat lifted her head at the noise, yawned, and re-positioned herself so her butt was in his face. “I didn’t mean you.” He huffed, petting her anyway.

 

He draped an arm over his face, but the sweater fibers tickled his nose so he sniffed and laid it back by his side. He chewed on his bottom lip and thought about getting a book or his laptop—maybe even getting dressed and walking down to the convenience store. In the end, even thinking about moving was too much effort, so he burrowed his bare feet further into the rumpled swath of blankets and rubbed his wrist into his tired, burning eyes.

 

He hated being this way—feeling bad for himself, especially when he didn’t really deserve to. He turned his face to the window and smiled at his reflection, but the sight of it made his stomach churn so he pulled the blanket over his face in disgust.

 

He’d never really cried over his rejection. Daichi being Daichi, it had been the most mild, kindly-worded and mature rejection probably of all time. He’d explained that he cared for Sugawara very much, but that he saw him as a friend—his best friend, but still, just a friend. He promised that as far as he was concerned, nothing had changed between them, and his actions since had proven it to be true. He still teased Sugawara, still hung out with him, and ostensibly trusted him completely. It was nice, but it just left Sugawara confused and constantly questioning what it was about him that made him unlovable.

 

Certain character traits and physical attributes he had previously ignored now seemed glaring and wholly undesirable. He couldn’t stop his brain from trying to excavate the fatal errors in his looks, his personality, his everything. Every time he talked with Daichi, he had a simultaneous mental dialogue occurring in his head, barraging him with theories on what he lacked. Was it because he was too ordinary? Was it because his laugh was annoying or that he was too violent? Or maybe it was because he was too thin or too pale or that his eyes crinkled too much when he smiled. Never had his personality seemed so unpleasant or his face so grotesque than in the light of this unrequited crush.

 

Sugawara pulled back down the blanket and stared at the ceiling, illuminated in stark white morning light. The truth, he knew, was that there was nothing wrong with him—nothing fatally wrong, anyway. Not enough to make him unlovable. There was nothing wrong with Daichi, either; he simply didn’t reciprocate Sugawara’s feelings. It was maddening and almost impossibly hard to accept, but he knew that with time it would fade. Sometimes he thought time was the _only_ thing that really made a difference. You grew, you gained perspective, but pain was pain. Sometimes, even logic couldn’t completely outstrip an emotional truth.

 

Still, even with that knowledge, quiet days like these were full of these never-ending internal arguments. It wasn’t helpful, this constant retreading of fragile, freshly-tilled ground. All it did was prolong the healing process and cause others to get caught in the crossfire of his emotions.

 

Sugawara thought of Oikawa then. He had been desperately trying not to think of him—his flouncy brown hair, his goofy smile, and the way his eyes could go from open and innocent to sharp and calculating in a microsecond. Oikawa was fun, he was comforting and he was challenging. He was…

 

Sugawara felt a flush raise in his neck and cheeks. He had truly fucked it up, whatever _it_ was. ‘ _It was nothing_ ,’ his mind supplied unhelpfully. Which, yeah, was technically correct, according to Oikawa. It didn’t really feel like nothing, though. It felt like something—a something that Sugawara had utterly and completely screwed up.

 

He blinked pensively at the falling snow. It was Saturday. He knew that Oikawa often hung around the gym on Saturdays to give private lessons. It was likely that the snow had shut the place down—and the rest of the town with it—but Sugawara didn’t have his number and he felt the overwhelmingly need to see him—to talk to him and clear the air.

 

Sugawara yawned and threw his arms over his head, stretching all of his limbs until they became rigid, then letting them fall back into the bed, soft and pliant. He inhaled deeply and pushed himself up, easing his feet from their blanketed haven to the cold, hardwood floor.

 

He got ready quickly, forgoing a shower. His water heater never worked well on really cold days, and anyway, he didn’t want to give himself the time to change his mind. He did brush his teeth, though. He ran a comb through his hair, too, even though he ended up covering it with a wool beanie. He zipped up his coat and slid his phone into his pocket before bending down to pet his cat. “Be home soon.” He told her, pushing her back gently with the toe of his boot as he squeezed out the front door.

 

He almost abandoned his plan completely when he stepped onto the landing. It was bitterly cold. Snowflakes stuck to his eyelashes and found their way between his collar and neck. He rocked from his toes to his heels and stamped his feet to warm up his legs, then tucked his chin into his chest and marched forward. The streets were deserted, which wasn’t surprising. Visibility was low with the pouring snow, and then there was the fact that it was freaking _cold._ No sane person would venture out from the warmth of their home. ‘ _So that doesn’t rule Oikawa out_.’ Sugawara thought wryly, smirking to himself.

 

The walk to the gym took longer than usual, mostly due to the bad weather, but in some part from Sugawara’s reluctance to initiate the awkward encounter he knew was forthcoming. He had tried to mentally prep himself while carefully navigating the icy sidewalks—mentally laying bare all of his insecurities so it wouldn't be as painful if Oikawa tried to do it. As he walked—feet crunching into deep snow—he tried to bolster his defenses, to awaken in him some sort of indignation over the events of the previous night. But whether from the relentless cold, his sleeplessness, or the unceasing tumult of his emotions, all he really managed to do was cultivate a vague and wordless guilt.

 

The gym was in view now. It looked dim inside, but it was hard to tell through the reflection of the perfect white snow. Sugawara couldn’t decide if he’d rather it be closed or not. His limbs were stiff and trembling and his hands had moved past cold to a dull, throbbing ache. He reached for the handle when he approached the door. His hand was beet red and he felt momentarily stupid for having forgotten his gloves, but the thought dissipated quickly when the door swung forward without resistance.

 

Sugawara’s heart hitched up into his throat as he moved into the warm gym lobby and loosened his scarf. The common room was dark and undisturbed, but light shone in the hallway from the gym’s double doors and he could hear the echoing squeak of sneakers on the glossy wood floors.

 

Sugawara inhaled slowly then exhaled, and then did it again two more times before nodding his head in mental preparation and walking towards the square of yellow light. He unzipped his coat as he walked and adjusted the bag on his back, digging his nails into the strap as he stepped in front of the open gym doors.

 

Oikawa was there, his back was facing Sugawara and he was practicing his serves—the bin of volleyballs behind him for easy access. Sugawara slumped to the floor in the entranceway and worked off his boots. He wasn’t quiet about it—removing his winter boots was hassle enough without numb fingers impeding the job, but Oikawa never acknowledged him. After his boots were off, Sugawara padded into the gym, slumping on a bench to remove the rest of the winter garb over his gym clothes. He pulled on his sneakers, stealing glances up at Oikawa as he laced them, trying to catch him in the act of watching. Oikawa’s attention was fixed on his serves, though, his eyes pointed forward.

 

Sugawara finished with his sneakers and moved to the other side of the net without asking, automatically bending his knees into a defensive position.

 

Oikawa had begun to raise the ball, but paused and moved it to his hip. “What are you doing?” He asked. Sugawara thought his tone was even colder than the weather.

 

“Receiving.”

 

Oikawa gave a cocky smirk. “You can’t receive my serves.”

 

Sugawara’s expression didn’t shift. He understood how Oikawa operated—he’d had the time to observe him from the sidelines often enough. Oikawa could be the most essential asset to his team, bolstering them all and reveling in their abilities, but the talent was two-fold. Where he could easily unearth strength, he could also define weakness and insecurity. Not just regarding volleyball, but in all aspects of the person’s life. It wouldn’t work against Sugawara, though. He wouldn’t let it.

 

“Just serve.”  

 

Oikawa narrowed his eyes slightly, and then he did just that. The ball came right for Sugawara, fast and pointed, but too high to receive. Sugawara darted to the side but it still managed to graze his cheek, the momentum knocking him slightly off balance and making him stumble to keep from falling. He touched his cheek as he watched the ball bounce once, twice, three times before settling into a roll. When he turned back, Oikawa’s eyes were wide with shock and his features were the gentlest Sugawara had seen since arriving. He opened his mouth like he was going to apologize, but he closed it again without saying a word—his eyes turning hard again.

 

Sugawara was slightly irritated, but he didn’t react. He knew Oikawa hadn’t meant to aim for him. As much as an asshole as he could be—was being—he would never intentionally hit anyone. Sugawara knew that, so he returned to the center of the court and bent back into his knees. “Again.”

 

“This is a waste of time.”

 

“Again.” Sugawara said, and this time Oikawa complied. Sugawara watched Oikawa intensely as he served, tracking his eye movements and the micro increments in which he shifted his hips and arms. When the ball slammed inside the court to his right, he was so caught up in watching the mechanics behind the serve, he hadn’t even attempted to move to hit it.

 

Oikawa just snorted and picked up another ball from the bin. “Maybe you should stick to your day job.”

 

Sugawara smirked. “I would, but I don’t think green is really my color.”

 

“Why, is Daichi not a fan?”

 

Sugawara didn’t reward him with a reaction. “You’re boring. Serve the ball.”

 

Oikawa did, and Sugawara made contact this time, but his body was turned too much from running to reach it, so it flew off to the right, thumping high against the side wall.

 

Oikawa didn’t say anything this time. He just picked up another ball and rolled his shoulders to prepare for another serve. Sugawara watched his eyes intently, trying to determine where the ball might be headed. In the end, it was a net grazer and he totally missed it. It didn’t matter though, because Oikawa was on the ground clutching his knee.

 

“Hey.” Sugawara said and hurried to his side, bending next to Oikawa and putting a hand on his shoulder. “You okay?”

 

“Fine.” Oikawa ground out between clenched teeth. “It just gets sore from the cold.”

 

Sugawara leveled him his clear brown eyes. “You mean the cold in your heart?”

 

“You’re the worst.” Oikawa whined. “Isn’t the part where you fawn all over me and proclaim your undying love?”

 

Sugawara laughed and helped Oikawa up by his elbow. “You’ve been reading too much manga.”

 

Oikawa snorted and limped to the bench, refusing Sugawara’s help. “So why did you come here?” He asked, pulling off his knee support so he could massage the joint with his fingers. “To apologize?”

 

Sugawara swallowed thickly at the sight of the pink scar on Oikawa’s knee and then looked away. “Apologize for what?” He asked.

 

“For—“ Oikawa looked up with a shocked expression. “You know!”

 

Sugawara shrugged and moved to push the volleyball bin back toward the storage closet. For several tense minutes, the two moved in a silent stalemate—Oikawa rubbing his knee and Sugawara gathering up stray balls.

 

“You’re mad at me?” Sugawara asked finally as he tossed the last ball into the bin and retrieved the dust mop from the closet.

 

Oikawa folded his arms across his chest and slumped against the wall in a childish pout. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

 

“I can’t help my feelings.” Sugawara walked the length of the gym, mopping the scuffed floor. It wasn’t a plea for understanding, just a statement. “And anyway,” he added as an afterthought. “You’re the one that intruded.”    

 

“What?” Oikawa asked, unfolding his arms and sitting upright.

 

Sugawara’s heart was pounding in his ears, but he maintained a stoic face. He hadn’t meant to take the conversation here, but now that he thought about it, righteous indignation flared in his belly and fueled him. “You read my texts without permission.”

 

“But you were hiding—“

 

“I wasn’t hiding anything.” Sugawara argued, but as soon as he the words left his mouth, he doubted their truthfulness.

 

“Bullshit.” Oikawa accused, digging his nails into the bench. “You said you were working to raise money for school.”

 

“I hardly knew you, was I supposed to just rattle off all of my holiday plans?”

 

“You still hardly know me.” Oikawa told him, and it hurt more than Sugawara would’ve thought.

 

“And whose fault is that?” Sugawara asked, stopping a few feet from Oikawa with his hands folded on top of the mop handle. “You expect me to lay all of my emotions bare but you’re not willing to do the same? It’s hypocritical.”

 

“I haven’t kept anything from you.”

 

“No?” Sugawara asked, gesturing at Oikawa’s knee. “You had _surgery_? When?”

 

Oikawa’s eyes darkened. “I don’t like talking about it.”

 

“Well, I don’t like talking about my feelings for…” Sugawara couldn’t finish, the words were still too painful.

 

“That’s different.” Oikawa said.

 

“How?”

 

“It just is.”

 

“That isn’t a good enough reason.”

 

They stared at each other for a few long seconds, neither blinking, a thousand words resting heavy on their tongues. Oikawa’s lips parted, and for a quick, dizzying moment, Sugawara thought he might try to kiss him, but instead he raised a finger and pointed at the door.

 

“Go, I’ll finish up here.”

 

Sugawara looked from the door, back to Oikawa. “But your knee.”

 

“It’s fine. Just go. I don’t want to look at you right now.”

 

The words came out harsher than Oikawa meant, but to his surprise, Sugawara didn’t wilt beneath the weight of them. “So is that it?” Sugawara asked, his mouth was slightly down-turned, his eyes not sad, but discerning—searching.

 

Oikawa scowled. “What?”

 

Sugawara turned his head slightly to the side, as if he was contemplating continuing. “I guess I’m just surprised at how easily you give up.” He said finally. “I never pegged you to be one to run from conflict, but I guess I was wrong.”

 

“I’m not,” Oikawa said, wrenching the dust mop from Sugawara’s grip. He thought about the years spent toiling in the gym, the sleepless nights spent watching games on his laptop, and the months of pain followed by gut-wrenching disappointment when trying to get his knee fixed. “Not when it’s for something I care about.”

 

Sugawara chewed the inside of his cheek and scratched at the back of his neck. “Okay, then.” He conceded, bowing his head with a fake smile. “Guess I should be going.”

 

Oikawa stood planted to the ground as Sugawara hurried to gather his things. He grabbed his bag, not bothering to put on his winter garments as he made for the door. He didn’t think Oikawa was watching him—the guy was way too stubborn—but still, he didn’t want to linger. Sugawara was stubborn, too, and he wasn’t going to give Oikawa the pleasure of seeing him hurt.

 

Sugawara hugged his arms to his chest and jogged home. Heavy, wet snowflakes whipped around him, stinging his bare arms and legs and making him feel crazy. What had he hoped to accomplish by meeting up with Oikawa? He had always been on the amenable side, but going out in weather like this just for the chance to resolve a conflict was unthinkable even for him.

 

The existence of the conflict in and of itself was indication of something he suspected neither of them wanted to admit. He wondered how long they could go on pretending that their relationship meant nothing.

 

A rattling shiver worked its way into Sugawara’s shoulders and he picked up his pace, snow kicking up from his heels and into the back of his sneakers. He didn’t need to fall for anyone, not _now_ , not after what had happened the last time, and especially not for someone like Oikawa. ‘ _Maybe I have a hidden masochistic streak_.’ Sugawara thought. Then an image of Oikawa at the bar, eyes confident and sultry, flared in his head and his neck turned hot. He snapped out of it when his leg sunk into a surprisingly deep pile of snow and sent him tumbling face-first onto the sidewalk. He pulled himself up, rubbing at his grazed forearms, and realized, yeah, masochism must definitely be the problem.

 

When he got home, he abandoned his sopping wet clothes at the door and slipped back into his bed, nude and shivering under the blankets. His cat hopped up to join him and licked his nose. He petted her with trembling fingers, eyes locked on the blizzard outside, and mentally promised himself to never to leave his bed again.


	5. Chapter 5

Sugawara pulled his tunic over his head and stared at his reflection in the mirror. He looked about as bad as he felt. His face was paler than usual and his hair was rumpled and wild from not being washed. He had meant to get up early to shower, but the sore throat and sniffles he had suffered through on Sunday had developed into a full-blown head cold by the morning, and he’d barely managed to drag himself out of bed in time to catch the bus.

 

Sugawara swallowed painfully and combed his fingers through his hair in a vain attempt to try to calm the curling strands. His limbs were hot and heavy but he couldn’t stop shaking. He started to feel dizzy so he held onto the cold porcelain sink with both hands for support. He wished there was somewhere to sit besides the toilet.

 

‘ _Maybe this is more than a cold_ ,’ he thought. Finally, the dizzy spell passed and he straightened back up, pulling on his hat when a sharp knock sounded at the door.

 

“Hurry up in there, I’ve only got like two minutes to get changed.”

 

Sugawara stored his stuff in his locker and unlocked the door, smiling apologetically as he exited the bathroom.

 

“Took you long enough!” Mari snapped when she saw him. She had her hand on her cocked hip, face drawn in an irritated scowl, but she softened when she saw Sugawara’s flushed cheeks and tired eyes. “You okay?”

 

Sugawara smiled and shrugged. “Just a cold. It was kind of inevitable.” He said, gesturing at the line of kids wiping their noses on their sleeves and coughing into their hands.

 

Mari nodded knowingly. “You’re telling me, poor Ken is home with the flu. I only told him to get the damn flu shot about a hundred times, but he’s scared of needles, the big baby.” Her words were harsh but her face belied her affection. Sugawara tried to laugh in response but just ended up coughing weakly into the crook of his elbow. Mari frowned slightly and gave his arm a soft punch. “You gonna make it?”

 

Sugawara shrugged. “I’ve had worse. Anyway, I can’t leave you to fend for yourself.”

 

Mari rolled her eyes. “I’m more scared of the manager than the kids.” She said, looking over her shoulder to where the manager was busily fluffing the bows on the perimeter fence of Santa’s Village. She shook her head and sighed before turning back to Sugawara. “Just don’t push yourself too hard, okay?”

 

“Elf’s honor,” Sugawara said with a wink. He maintained a smile until she disappeared into the bathroom, but immediately let his shoulders slump when the door was closed. He rubbed at his tired eyes. He still had a few minutes of freedom before joining Santa’s side, and he wasn’t in a hurry to pander to the throng of irritable customers. Sugawara looked over to the giftwrap booth out of habit. Oikawa was there, alone for once, looking bored with an elbow leaned on the workstation and his phone in his hand.

 

Sugawara mentally shrugged and brushed his hair with his fingers again before heading in his direction. He cleared his throat when he reached him. “Good morning!” Sugawara said, trying to sound as pleasant as he could muster.

 

“Hnn.” Oikawa replied, eyes glued to his phone screen.

 

“How’s the knee?”

 

Oikawa shrugged one shoulder, but didn’t look up. “It hurts.”

 

Sugawara nodded dumbly. “That’s too bad.”

 

Oikawa’s face stayed frozen in a mask of bored indifference. “Mm.” He hummed in reply.

 

Sugawara stood there quietly, staring at Oikawa, not quite sure what he was expecting. The oppressive Christmas music and dank, stuffy air were making him feel nauseous, and the corners of his vision darkened ominously with each heartbeat in his throbbing head. He decided he couldn’t deal with Oikawa’s pouting right now, so he sighed and gave a half-hearted wave. “Well, see you around.” He said, wincing at his own raspy voice.

 

Oikawa looked up curiously when he left, but Sugawara was too busy trying to stay upright to notice.  

 

The hours passed by painfully slowly. Sugawara felt worse as the day elapsed. Every shrill cry made his head pound till his vision wavered and his knees felt like jelly. By the time his lunch hour approached, it was taking everything in him to stay upright, so he swallowed his pride and went to track down the manager.

 

He tried to smile apologetically when he found her, but his lips were trembling at the edges. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I can make it through the rest of my shift.”

 

To his surprise, the manager looked more sympathetic than angry. “It happens to the best of us, Sugarplum. No employee escapes the Santa’s Village plague. Go home and rest up, we’ve got it covered.”

 

“You sure?” He asked, more out of politeness than anything.

 

The manager’s mouth grew into a cocky smirk and she folded her arms over her chest. “What, do you think I just started out in this position? I was Santa's Helper once, too, you know. The best this store’s ever seen.”

 

“O-okay, well thanks,” Sugawara interjected, cutting the manager off before she could trap him in one of her long stories. “I’ve gotta go before I miss the bus.”

 

“Ah, yes! Go and don’t come back till you’re better, we don’t need you spreading your germs to the customers!”

 

Sugawara nodded and bowed his head in thanks. He glanced over to Oikawa’s booth and considered letting him know he was leaving, but ultimately decided against it. He really did have to hurry to catch the bus, and he figured Oikawa wouldn’t care, anyway. Not when he was so busy holding his ridiculous grudge.

 

Sugawara managed to reach the bus just in time. His fever seemed to hit him full force when he fell into the hard, plastic seat. He clenched his eyes shut and leaned his head against the window, thankful that the bus was mostly empty. He sat stiff and still in his seat, his stomach doing somersaults with every bump and jolt. He breathed slowly and concentrated on swallowing. Dressing like an elf was bad enough, he refused to suffer the indignity of vomiting on public transportation.

 

To his eternal gratitude, he managed to make it home before losing grips on his stomach. He had barely locked the door behind him before he dropped everything in the entranceway and stumbled to the bathroom. The cat followed closely on his heels, and he found himself wishing he had closed the bathroom door when he had to push her away from the toilet while heaving.

 

“Go away,” he moaned when he finished and flushed. His voice came out in a stilted whine. He sounded pathetic, but to be fair, it matched how he felt. The nausea had subsided but he was left feeling sore and exhausted, his back and shoulders wracked with chills.

 

He sat on the bathroom floor for a few minutes, slouched against the wall, his head on his knees as he waited for the room to stop spinning. When the pounding in his head had settled back into a persistent but manageable drum, he pulled himself up and half-crawled to the kitchen for a glass of water. He brought it back to the bed, not managing to convince himself to take a sip before setting it on the nightstand and crawling—still fully clothed—under the covers.

 

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and hugged it to his chest. He had the urge to text his Mom or Daichi, for comfort more than anything, but they were both too far away to bother. All he’d do was make them worry, and really, miserable or not—he could survive the flu on his own.

 

His cat jumped on the bed and snuggled herself against his stomach. “Well, not totally alone, right?” He asked her with a raspy voice, scratching her favorite spot under her chin.

 

He fell asleep quickly, lulled by his cat’s purring and the sight of sparsely falling snowflakes. He woke up a few times, but only managed to stay conscious long enough to push down his covers when he started sweating or hoist them back up when his skin bloomed with goosebumps before drifting off again.

 

He woke up some time that evening, hot and stiff and feeling like he had cotton in his mouth. He knew it was evening because the sky had darkened and his apartment was cast in deep shadows. The cat pawed at his cheek and he waved her off before realizing she had probably woken him up to be fed. He exhaled and closed his eyes, reveling in the last few minutes of comfort before hoisting himself up to turn on the lamp next to the bed.

 

The cat raced to the kitchen when he moved, chirping loud and insistent mews as she went. “Coming, I’m coming,” Sugawara croaked. His limbs were heavy and sore, as if he had just endured a particularly intense volleyball practice. His skin felt dry and tight, and when he moved from the bed, his vision tilted dangerously.

 

He made his way to the kitchen, holding onto the wall for support, stumbling over his own feet when a heavy knock on the door froze him in his tracks. He stood motionless in his living room, hoping whoever it was would just go away. They knocked again, though, so he moved towards the door as quietly as possible, trying to peer through the peephole without alerting the other party to his presence.

 

“Suga, you in there?” A familiar muffled voice sounded through the door.

 

Sugawara scrambled to turn the lock, not caring that his clothes were rumpled and that his sweat-soaked hair was sticking to his forehead and neck.

 

“Wow.” Oikawa said when the door had opened.

 

“What are you doing here?” Sugawara asked, leaning heavily against the frame for support.

 

“You look like shit.” Oikawa observed with a low whistle.

 

“How do you know where I live?” Sugawara asked, shivering when a gust of wind blew through the entranceway.

 

Oikawa shrugged. “Can I come in?”

 

Sugawara just stared at him uncertainly, wary of his evasion. “Seriously, how?” He repeated.

 

“I asked around, okay?”

 

“Asked around _where_?”

 

Oikawa smiled and stuck his tongue out with a wink. “Here. I just asked your neighbors.” He said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

 

“Oh god.” Sugawara kneaded his forehead with his thumb and forefinger. “How many neighbors did you ask?”

 

Oikawa moved past Sugawara into the apartment and laughed awkwardly. “Only like 10—or…20 or so.”

 

“I’m going to get kicked out.” Sugawara moaned, not bothering to fight when Oikawa prized his fingers from the doorknob and closed the door behind them.

 

“No, you won’t.” Oikawa assured him. “I’m super personable. I’m pretty sure I got offered cookies and milk at least five times, plus a proposition for a threesome.”

 

Sugawara groaned loudly.

 

“Don’t worry, I declined.”

 

“Why didn’t you just text me?” Sugawara asked.

 

“I did, you didn’t answer.”

 

Sugawara pulled his phone out of his pocket and turned on the screen. He had 2 missed calls and 8 texts. He stared at the screen, his fever-rattled brain trying to catch up to the meaning behind the illuminated numbers. “…Oh.” He said finally.

 

“Well, you didn’t need to come.” Sugawara told him. His cat rubbed against his ankles insistently as he moved into the kitchen to feed her.

 

“Maybe not, but I’m just such a nice guy.”

 

“Is that what you’re calling it?” Sugawara asked, reaching into the cabinet for the bag of cat food. He tried not to shiver but failed spectacularly, the quivering coursing through his body from his wobbling knees to his trembling voice.  

 

“If the name fits,” Oikawa gave a coy smile. “You left early.”

 

Sugawara dumped food into the cats bowl and then straightened back up, combing a hand through his tangled hair. “…Yeah. Well, I wasn’t feeling great.” He smiled apologetically and put the bag of cat food on the counter, feeling too jittery and off kilter to move his arms above head level again.

 

Oikawa hummed in understanding. “You look awful.” He said, stepping over to replace the bag. He dropped his palm over Sugawara's forehead after he’d done it.

 

Sugawara shivered under Oikawa’s touch and folded his arms over his chest to consolidate warmth. “So you’ve said.” He sighed with a tired smile.

 

Oikawa let his thumb graze lightly over Sugawara’s beauty mark, then brought his hand back down to his side. Sugawara watched—breath stuck in his throat—as Oikawa’s expression shifted from sultry and serious, back to his normal carefree façade. “You have a high fever, Suga. You shouldn’t be up.”

 

“If I stand in here any longer, I won’t be.” Sugawara said with a weak laugh. It was mostly a joke, but Oikawa’s eyes widened with concern, anyway,

 

“You should lie down.” He said. “And change. And maybe take a shower.”

 

Sugawara nodded silently, he didn’t think he could manage standing long enough to take a shower, but he wasn’t about to tell Oikawa that. “I know, I will.”

 

“Good.” Oikawa said and leaned up against the fridge. Sugawara couldn’t help but think that he looked even taller than usual in his small kitchen.

 

“Good.” Sugawara repeated hesitantly. “So...”

 

“So you go do that and I’ll make you something to eat.”

 

Sugawara felt his face blanch at the mention of food. “N-no, that’s fine. I can manage on my own.”

 

Oikawa raised an eyebrow, his eyes exuding that cockiness that made Sugawara want to punch him and kiss him in equal measure. “Who are you trying to convince? You can barely stay upright. Is Daichi on his way or something?”

 

Sugawara sighed heavily and grabbed Oikawa by the sleeve, pulling him towards the door. “This is exactly the kind of thing I _don’t_ need.” He said, his indignation clear despite his hoarse voice.

 

He was doing a great job of looking somewhat well—at least enough to be obstinate—but when he entered the hallway, the cat darted under his legs. It was a maneuver she practiced often, for play or simply to antagonize him—Sugawara could never decide. Usually, he had no problem keeping his balance, but today his reaction time was slowed by his illness, and he only had time to yelp and release Oikawa’s sleeve before tumbling to the ground.

 

Sugawara tried to stand back up quickly and retain some remnant of dignity, but his fever coupled with the sudden change in position left him lightheaded and reeling. He barely managed to straighten his legs before they were crumpling again, his knees shaking and weak.

 

“You okay?” A voice sounded near his ear. Sugawara knew it was Oikawa but he couldn’t see him. He had his eyes clamped shut, trying to fend off the oppressive dizziness. Sugawara shook his head slowly from side to side, then changed his mind and nodded. “Maybe you should skip straight ahead to bed.” He heard Oikawa say. Then he was being lifted from the floor, an arm curled around his shoulders and under his legs. Sugawara thrashed out in surprise and maybe a bit of embarrassment and he was promptly released with a curse.

 

He opened his eyes slowly to see Oikawa bent forward, hands clutched over his crotch. He barely managed to suppress a giggle. “Sorry, um…I can manage myself.”

 

“So mean, so mean.” Oikawa whined through gritted teeth, wiping a tear from his eye.

 

Sugawara patted Oikawa’s knee and pulled himself from the floor. He braced a hand against the wall when he started to lose his balance again and trekked half-hunched to the living room where he collapsed onto the couch in a quivering sprawl.

 

“C’mon, bed.” Oikawa said, nudging Sugawara’s foot with his knee once he had recovered.

 

Sugawara buried his head into the couch cushion and pretended not to hear him.

 

“Suga.” Oikawa said, poking at his arm, “Suga, I don’t want to try to carry you again. I treasure little Tooru.”

 

“Don’t call your dick ‘little Tooru.’” Sugawara groaned into the couch cushion.

 

Oikawa cocked his head and pulled lightly on the hair at the nape of Sugawara’s neck. “If you let me stay, I promise I’ll never say it again.”

 

Sugawara turned his head so he was staring up at Oikawa. “You promise?”

 

“I swear on volleyball.”

 

“Don’t swear on volleyball, you weirdo.”

 

Oikawa looked offended. “There’s nothing weird about volleyball. You’re bossy, Suga.”

 

Sugawara smiled a little despite himself. “I’m not getting rid of you, am I?”

 

“I brought a movie!” Oikawa said, bypassing the question. “That one the kids were talking about.”

 

“That’s a no, then.” Sugawara leaned his head back against the couch cushion. “What happened to being mad at me?”

 

Oikawa closed his eyes and gave a crooked smile. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

 

“Does that ever work?”

 

Oikawa tilted his head and winked. “Confidence and charisma can get you far, Suga.”

 

Sugawara sighed and covered his eyes with his hand. “Then you must still be at the starting line.”

 

Oikawa snorted and plopped down on the couch next to Sugawara, bumping their shoulders together. “I guess it occurred to me that maybe I was being a bit unreasonable.”

 

“A bit?” Sugawara asked, dumbfounded, and then, “you reached that conclusion on your own?”

 

“No, Iwaizumi told me.” Oikawa said. “Actually, he called me an asshole. I just inferred the whole unreasonable thing.”

 

Sugawara smiled and chuckled weakly.

 

“Also, I kinda feel responsible for you being sick.“

 

“How’s that?”

 

“If not for my amazing blocking skills, you wouldn’t have gotten king elf.”

 

Sugawara just blinked at him.

 

“…and then you wouldn’t have had contact with so many germy kids.”

 

Sugawara opened his mouth to say something, then closed it again. “I’m pretty sure Santa’s the king elf,” he said, mentally blaming his fever for his defending of Christmas-related semantics. “And today was my first day in that position.”

 

Oikawa waved a dismissive hand. “Details.”

 

“Whatever you say,” Sugawara said, slumping over onto the armrest, too tired to argue.

 

“Okay!” Oikawa agreed, clearly happy he had won. “I can’t convince you to move to the bed, can I?”

 

Sugawara groaned into his elbow. “We’re watching a movie, aren’t we? I don’t have a TV in there.”

 

Oikawa snapped his finger and stood. “No problem,” he said, grabbing Sugawara by the ankle and pulling him till his body was stretched across the entirety of the couch. Sugawara started to protest, but he was cut off by Oikawa gesturing at an open door.

 

“This is your bedroom, right?”

 

Sugawara opened his mouth to answer but Oikawa didn’t wait for him, instead slipping into the room and returning to the den again with pillows under his arm and Sugawara’s bright yellow duvet in hand. He tucked the duvet around Sugawara’s sides and slipped the pillow under his head.

 

He appraised his work with a satisfied smile and brushed Sugawara’s hair away from his forehead to check his fever. “I’m gonna grab the movie out of my bag, can I get you anything to eat?”

 

Sugawara swallowed thickly and shook his head into the pillow. “N-no thanks. But do you think you could bring me a glass of water?”

 

Oikawa nodded and squeezed his shoulder. “You got it!” He said, flashing a thumbs up. When he returned, it was with a dvd tucked in his armpit, a glass of water in one hand and a steaming mug of tea in the other.

 

Oikawa placed the drinks on the coasters on Sugawara’s coffee table. “I know you didn’t ask for tea, but it always makes me feel better when I’m sick. Plus, it’ll help your throat.”

 

Sugawara nodded gratefully and straightened himself up till he was sitting cocooned in his warm duvet. “Thanks,” he said, taking the mug in his trembling hands.

 

Oikawa wasn’t paying attention to him, too caught up in fiddling with the TV, trying to figure out the right input for the dvd player.

 

“It’s the one that says dvd…” Sugawara supplied, blowing the steam from his tea.

 

“Obviously, I know that!” Oikawa said, sticking his tongue out at Sugawara over his shoulder before slipping the disc in to the player.

 

Sugawara took a hesitant sip as Oikawa navigated the movie’s menu. The taste was earthy and warm with only the vaguest hint of honey. A chill ran up his spine and Oikawa’s eyes darted towards him before turning back to the television screen.

 

“How is it?” he asked.

 

Sugawara took another sip and smiled. “Good, thank you.”

 

Oikawa nodded and tried hard not to look pleased, but Sugawara could see the smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He didn’t get a chance to say more, though, because the movie started in an ear-splitting cacophony of music and narration.

 

“Ah, sorry!” Oikawa said, scrambling to find the volume control.

 

Sugawara laughed weakly before taking another sip of tea and placing the mug back on the coffee table. “The volume’s always finicky. Daichi’s convinced the TV’s possessed.”

 

“Daichi, huh?” Oikawa asked, eyebrow raised.

 

Sugawara just rolled his eyes and punched him in the shoulder. “Don’t make me kick you out.”

 

“Okay, okay, I’ll behave.” Oikawa promised, even though the devious gleam in his eye said otherwise.

 

Despite Sugawara’s insistence that Oikawa join him on the couch, Oikawa settled on the floor, resting his head against Sugawara’s legs. To both their surprise, the film was pretty good. Sugawara chuckled at a few different scenes, and when exhaustion finally caught up with him, he was roused to consciousness a few times by Oikawa’s soft giggles.

 

Sugawara didn’t know how long he slept. He'd dreamt about being mobbed by swarms of petulant, ankle-high elves, and when he woke, the room was dimly lit and silent.

 

“You awake?” Oikawa whispered softly.

 

Sugawara hummed an affirmative and almost laughed when Oikawa gave out a breathy sigh. “Thank god, I was so _bored_. Iwaizumi won’t even text with me.”

 

“You could’ve just left,” Sugawara said in a half whisper. His voice was painful and dry, but mustering the energy to sit up and ask for a glass of water felt unfeasible, so he bit back his complaints.

 

“Yeah, I guess.” Oikawa reached for Sugawara’s arm draped limply over the side of the sofa. He took the cold hand in his, rubbing the palm till it was warm, tracing his fingertips across the delicate veins and studying a dark freckle on his knuckle.

 

Sugawara registered the contact with a stuttering breath and pulled his hand back into the safety of his duvet.

 

“Have any good dreams?” Oikawa asked through a barely concealed pout.

 

Sugawara rubbed at his eyes with his fist and didn’t answer.

 

“About Daichi maybe?” Oikawa teased, absentmindedly brushing back a stray curl on Sugawara’s cheek.

 

“He has a girlfriend.” Sugawara replied automatically, despite being only half awake.

 

“What’s she like, anyway?”

 

“Who?” Sugawara asked, voice thick with sleep.

 

Oikawa looked up at him, his hair matted and wild, his eyes red-rimmed and bright with fever. “Daichi’s girlfriend.”

 

Sugawara screwed up his face in concentration. “Uh. From what I know, she seems really nice. Pretty, smart…they make a good pair.”

 

“Is she the jealous type?” Oikawa asked.

 

Sugawara sniffed and rubbed at his nose with the back of his wrist, “I don’t know, I don’t really know her well enough to say.”

 

“Well, she doesn’t want you staying with Daichi…”

 

Sugawara shrugged. “I don’t blame her. It’s not like she knows me _that_ well. It’d be like letting your boyfriend spend the night with his ex or something, not that I’m Daichi’s ex, but I mean—I just, yeah, I get it.”

 

Oikawa huffed and picked at the hem of the duvet. “It’s like pulling teeth.” He mumbled to himself.

 

“What?” Sugawara asked, reaching to the coffee table for a tissue.

 

“You never seem to have a problem talking shit about our coworkers,” Oikawa told him, ignoring the question.

 

“I—“ Sugawara paused to blow his nose. “What?“

 

“What’s her name again?” Oikawa asked, trying to remember the name in the text he had read the previous weekend.

 

“Who?” Sugawara asked, growing frustrated with trying to follow the disjointed conversation.

 

“Daichi’s girlfriend.” Oikawa clarified impatiently.

 

“What's with the sudden obsession?” Sugawara asked, balling the tissue in his hand and depositing it in the small trashcan Oikawa had dragged out from the bathroom.

 

“Aren't you the gossip king? What's wrong with wanting to talk about them?” Oikawa challenged.

 

"Kimi." Sugawara relented with a sigh. “It’s Kimi.”

 

 Oikawa nodded as if he had known all along. “Right, Kimi. What I wanted to say is it’s okay to be mad at her.”

 

Sugawara looked like he was torn between laughing and throwing something across the room. “Thanks for the permission, but I’m not mad.” He said, lifting himself up on his elbow. “It’d be unreasonable to be mad.”

 

“Yeah but I’m saying that’s okay. To be unreasonable, I mean.” Oikawa pressed.

 

Sugawara snorted, “of course you’d say that.”

 

“Yeah, so what?” Oikawa challenged. “People might think I overact, but you know, I do it because I _care_ , Suga, and because _I’m_ not ashamed to show it.”

 

“You do it because you can’t help it. It’s just who you are.” Sugawara argued. “And I’m not ashamed. Where is this even coming from?”

 

“So you’re telling me you feel nothing? This guy you’ve been friends with for years rejected you and you feel nothing?”

 

Sugawara felt his neck and cheeks turning hot under the scrutiny. “I didn’t say that.”

 

“But you’re acting like it.”

 

Sugawara scrunched up his face and ran his fingers through his hair. “Maybe I just don’t see how it’s any of your business.”

 

Oikawa stared at him, face dark and silent and mildly intimidating.

 

Sugawara turned from his stare and shook his head slowly from side to side. "You want to know if I was sad? Yes, obviously. I’m human, you know?” He absentmindedly smoothed out the wrinkles of the duvet in his lap. “But it’s not Kimi’s fault that Daichi didn’t— _doesn’t_ —return my feelings.”

 

“So be mad at Daichi then.” Oikawa said, resting his chin on Sugawara’s thigh.

 

“No.” Sugawara said firmly.

 

“Why?” Oikawa asked. “Is it because you still love him?”

 

Oikawa was expecting a vehement denial, maybe a demand that he leave the apartment. Instead, he watched with abject horror as Sugawara’s nose scrunched up, his cheeks turned red, and he reached his hands up to cover his face. Oikawa reacted immediately, scrambling next to Sugawara on the couch and wrapping a protective arm around his shoulders.

 

“Sorry.” Sugawara choked out, his voice muffled by his hands.

 

Oikawa shook his head and pressed a kiss into Sugawara’s warm temple. “I fucked up, I fucked up,” he fretted. “I’m sorry. You were asleep a long time. I was strategizing, but I didn’t fully understand my opponent. Where’s the instant replay when you need it?”

 

“Volleyball nerd.” Sugawara snorted through his tears.

 

“Takes one to know one.” Oikawa protested, ruffling Sugawara’s hair. It was sweaty and matted, but he didn’t mind.

 

“Real mature.”

 

“I am rubber, you are glue.”

 

Sugawara giggled a little at that and then choked around another dry sob. “I hate this.” He groaned. He was frustrated at himself for getting sick and for breaking down in front of Oikawa over his pathetic lingering crush on Daichi of all things.

 

“Do you want to try punching me?” Oikawa asked. His face was so sincere that Sugawara couldn’t help but giggle through faltering sniffles.

 

“No.”

 

“Okay, but remember that I offered.” Oikawa said. He rested his head on Sugawara’s shoulder and nuzzled his nose into his cheek. “I think your fever’s down.”

 

“Really?”

 

“No, not really,” Oikawa giggled, sending shivers down Sugawara’s spine from the feeling of the cool breath on his neck. “But I should probably go, huh?

 

Sugawara smiled a little and looked at the ceiling, rubbing tears away with his wrist. He shrugged noncommittally.

 

“Yeah, okay,” Oikawa said, putting a hand on his injured knee and grunting slightly as he moved to stand.

 

“It’s just the fever, you know.” Sugawara told him as he stood.

 

Oikawa turned and gave him a questioning look.

 

“Making me emotional. So don’t go telling people I’m some lovesick sob story or I’ll take you up on the offer to punch you.”

 

Oikawa smirked and cocked his head. “No you won’t.”

 

“No, I won’t.”

 

Oikawa smiled and rolled his shoulders. “Well I’m gonna go home and figure out how to not mess things up every time we hang out.”

 

“No you won’t.” Sugawara laughed.

 

Oikawa stuck out his tongue and smiled. “No, I won’t.”

 

“It’s okay, I like you the way you are…mostly.” Sugawara said with a wink.

 

“I like you mostly, too.”

 

Sugawara smiled as a familiar warmth bloomed in his chest. He met Oikawa’s gaze—eyes glittering mischievously—and raised an admonishing finger. “Don’t you dare go by the apartment that offered you a threesome.”

 

“Well there go my evening plans!” Oikawa snapped his fingers in feigned disappointment and both parties laughed.

 

“Feel better, Suga. Dream about sugarplums dancing in your head.”

 

Sugawara didn’t reply, he just rolled his face into his pillow and held up his middle finger.

 

Oikawa snickered a little at that, and Sugawara rolled back over to watch him leave.

 

“You know, I’m probably going to need juice.” He said softly.

 

“Hm?”

 

“Juice, and more tissues, and like—sick people stuff.”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Yeah, so I’m just saying you can come over tomorrow if you want. Or not, I mean, it’s up to you.” Sugawara paused with his mouth hanging open, perplexed at his inability to stop babbling. “I’m just saying I don’t mind. If you do come over, I mean. I know I’m sick and not great company, but—um…yeah.” He concluded hesitantly.

 

Oikawa gave that familiar haughty grin and quickly traversed the space between them. “See you tomorrow, Suga,” he said, planting a gentle kiss on Sugawara’s forehead.

 

Sugawara didn’t reply, he just leaned back into the couch cushions and watched Oikawa leave with a small wave, shuddering lightly as feelings of contentedness and trepidation washed over him.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know why this chapter was so hard for me to write. I wrote it once and then scrapped it and that's why it took so long. Sorry sorry, I'll try not to take so long in the future. We're nearing the end, if anyone wants to vent about Oisuga feels, you can chat with me here [on my tumblr](http://youremarvelous.tumblr.com/). 
> 
> I don't proofread very thoroughly. Forgive me!
> 
> Edit: just want to say I read through the chapter and fixed up a couple things. Next chapter should hopefully be out this weekend. Thanks to everyone who has left kudos or comments, I appreciate you all more than you know! <3


	6. Chapter 6

By Thursday, Sugawara’s apartment was loaded down with a smattering of pharmaceutical fare. His coffee table was overflowing with tissue boxes and hot compresses, cold medicines and used juice cups, and his kitchen was stocked to the brim with soups and teas, whisky and honey, and whatever else Oikawa could think of to soothe Sugawara’s throat and stomach.

 

Oikawa had turned out to be somewhat of a natural when it came to caring for the sick. The gentle touches and whispered reassurances proffered whenever Sugawara’s temperature spiked and left him sore and petulant seemed discordant with the Oikawa he thought he knew. He scoured his mind in his abundant free time between visits, trying to excavate every encounter he’d had with Oikawa in high school. Back then, he’d identified him as an overly cocky pretty boy and had left it at that. Now he felt shame at how shortsighted that assessment had been.

 

Oikawa was a good listener; he was highly attuned to the emotions of those around him and, perhaps unless his competitive nature was triggered, used that attentiveness to put others at ease. He was generous with his time, even though he allowed himself so little scheduled frivolity, and he hid his laser-pointed determination behind jokes and easy smiles.

 

He had a tendency towards jealousy, but only because he worked so hard for everything he had.

 

Sugawara felt his heart giving way to Oikawa with each new understanding. They weren’t all that different. Sugawara had encouraged the geniuses on his team where Oikawa had staunchly rejected them, but Sugawara couldn’t say with all confidence that—had his talents had been more than they were—he wouldn’t have taken a similar path. It was impossible to know, so he didn’t reflect on it.

 

He felt his heart jump to his throat at the sound of a knock at the door. He scrambled from the couch, tripping over his feet and kneeing the coffee table with a yelp before forcing himself to calm down and walk to the door like a person whose heart _wasn’t_ beating out of their chest.

 

“Good morning, starshine,” Oikawa said cheerfully when the door was opened, flashing a smile that was all teeth and dimples and left Sugawara’s head reeling.

 

“It’s evening,” Sugawara smirked when Oikawa passed through the threshold.

 

“Details, details,” Oikawa winked, kicking the door closed with his heel and resting his hand on Sugawara’s cheek. “You’re looking better,” He remarked, letting his hand wander to Sugawara’s hair and brushing a stray lock out of his face.

 

Sugawara nodded numbly, absentmindedly scratching the cheek that Oikawa had just touched. “I feel a lot better. I mean I should, considering I’ve been the test subject for every old wives’ tale you could dig up.”

 

“Hey, respect your elders, Suga. They’ve been around longer, they have to know stuff.” Oikawa headed towards the kitchen, swinging a plastic grocery bag by his side.

 

“Yeah, but they also didn’t have access to Google,” Sugawara pointed out, following Oikawa and leaning up against the counter. “I never realized you were so superstitious.”

 

Oikawa lifted the plastic bag to the counter and looked over his shoulder to Sugawara. “I’m not.”

 

“C’mon, the old wives’ tales, the aliens—“

 

“Aliens aren’t a superstition, they’re real.” Oikawa returned with such conviction that Sugawara had no choice but to raise his palms in apology and concede the point. “And you feel better, don’t you?” Oikawa asked, lining up the contents of the bag on the counter.

 

Sugawara tilted his head and sighed. “Yes, but it’s also been three days. I think it’s just passing out of my system.”

 

Oikawa hummed and put a fresh bottle of juice in the fridge. “No, I bet it was the onion.”

 

Sugawara blanched at the memory and fervently shook his head. “If making me vomit constitutes getting better—“

 

Oikawa laughed loudly with his hand on his stomach. “Well, it definitely cleaned you out.”

 

Sugawara groaned dramatically and hugged his arms around his stomach. “Don’t remind me.” Oikawa snickered into his shoulder. “You don’t have to keep bringing me stuff, you know.” Sugawara told him, grabbing the newly emptied plastic bag and storing it under the sink.

 

Oikawa watched him, trying not to stare at the nape of his neck when he bent down. “But then what would be my excuse to come over?”

 

Sugawara felt his cheeks heat and ducked his chin into his collarbone to hide his blush. “You don’t have to have a reason, dummy. It’s fine to just visit me.”

 

Oikawa quirked an eyebrow and smiled widely. “I knew Suga liked my company.”

 

Sugawara rolled his eyes to the side but couldn’t hide his smile. “Don’t talk about me like I’m not 2 feet away from you. And I never said I didn’t.” He argued, grabbing the kettle from the stove. “Tea?”

 

Oikawa hummed an approval and jumped slightly when he felt a soft brush against his ankle. “Hello,” he told the cat, reaching into the cabinet for a saucer. “I brought something special for you.” He told her, uncapping a bottle of milk.

 

“That’s not good for her, you know,” Sugawara said, not making a move to stop him.

 

“Just a little won’t hurt.” Oikawa glanced over his shoulder with a wink.

 

Sugawara rolled his eyes to the ceiling. “Fine, but if she vomits you’re the one cleaning it up.”

 

“Vomit clean-up seems to be my regular job around here.” Oikawa mumbled, barely stifling his laughter when Sugawara’s face blanched and he turned his head away, cringing at the memory.

 

“That’s—I told you I could manage.”

 

“It’s fine,” Oikawa waved him off with a dismissive hand. He bent down and placed the saucer on the floor. “What’s her name, anyway?”

 

Sugawara patted her butt with his socked foot, smiling fondly at the way she greedily lapped up the milk. “Pudding”

 

Oikawa looked incredulous and Sugawara shrugged.

 

“Let me guess—“ Oikawa began.

 

“Daichi named her,” they said in unison.

 

Sugawara broke into a laugh while Oikawa rolled his eyes.

 

“We found her behind his apartment complex when she was a kitten. Her head was stuck in a pudding cup, so—“ he explained, dipping down to scratch the cat behind her ear.

 

“That’s pretty unoriginal of him.” Oikawa huffed.

 

Sugawara poked him in the side and winked when he was met with a scornful glare. “I think it’s cute,” he said, eyes sparkling mischievously. “And anyway, it suits her.”

 

“I guess,” Oikawa relented, picking up the saucer when it was licked clean and placing it in the sink.

 

Sugawara hummed thoughtfully. “You’re the jealous type, huh?”

 

Oikawa knit his eyebrows in confusion and poked Sugawara in the side. “And what would I be jealous of exactly?”

 

Sugawara jumped back, hands in front of his chest to ward off a side-poking onslaught and shrugged in feigned innocence. “Cat naming?”

 

Oikawa tried to suppress a smirk and threw the back of his hand over his forehead in a dramatic display. “If Suga keeps being mean to me, I won’t let him have any of the Christmas Stollen I picked up.”

 

“Did you really pick it up or did some poor girl give it to you?”

 

“I don’t make anyone give me anything!” Oikawa protested, snapping his hand back down. “I’m not a bad guy, you know!”

 

“Yeah,” Sugawara sighed, pulling two mugs from the cabinet and filling them with tea. “I guess you’re not.”

 

“Of course not,” Oikawa nodded in agreement, grabbing two plates in one hand and the oil-spotted bakery box in the other.

 

Sugawara walked a few paces ahead of Oikawa so he could clear a spot on his cluttered coffee table. “Working on something?” Oikawa asked as he watched him snap close books and well-worn journals and stack them next to the couch.

 

Sugawara ripped a page out of a binder for a makeshift coaster. “Just trying to get ahead for next semester while I have free time.”

 

Oikawa placed the plates on the table and raised an eyebrow. “That’s diligent of you. Your parents must have had an easy time.”

 

Sugawara swatted Oikawa’s bicep with the back of his hand. “Stop, you sound like an old man.”

 

“Says the guy with gray hair.” Oikawa winked. “What are you in school for, anyway?”

 

Sugawara quirked an eyebrow. “Really pushing that old man thing, aren’t you?”

 

Oikawa flattened his palm against his chest in feigned offense. “I’m genuinely curious!”

 

Sugawara snorted and braced himself on the coffee table as he lowered himself to the floor. “Psychology,” he said. “Well, social psychology, specifically.”

 

Oikawa nodded thoughtfully, taking a seat at the opposite end of the squat table. “What inspired that decision?”

 

Sugawara took a plate and pulled it in front of him. “I kinda got into it in high school,” He said, sniffing at the vaguely sweet bread and taking a small bite. “I would always get really nervous before a game, since I’ve always been generally less skilled than my teammates.”

 

Oikawa opened his mouth to protest, but Sugawara waved him off. “No, no, it’s fine. I know I contributed to the team in my own way, but even so, constantly getting stared down by guys that were bigger and stronger than me. It was—intimidating.” He concluded with a weary sigh.

 

“Not me, though, right?” Oikawa asked around a mouthful of bread.

 

Sugawara tilted his head back and laughed. “No, not you, for whatever reason. Probably because Iwaizumi had you so whipped.”

 

Oikawa stuck his tongue out in a petulant display. He couldn’t argue, he knew it was true.

 

Sugawara took a sip of tea and rubbed his nose with the back of his hand. “So anyway, I was trying to figure out how to be more confident on the court and I found this video on changing perceptions and body chemistry through body language and—I don’t know—it struck a chord with me.”

 

Oikawa nodded, eyes wide over the diaphanous steam of his tea, totally enraptured.

 

“I did a lot of personal research, just for volleyball initially, but over time one thing led to another and—It’s probably boring.” Sugawara said, smiling apologetically. “Or, I don’t know, naïve? Overly romantic?” He shrugged noncommittally. “I just like the idea of being able to help people the way that video helped me.”

 

“It’s not boring,” Oikawa said quickly, placing his tea back on the table. “It sounds like a really good fit for you.”

 

“You think so?” Sugawara asked, absentmindedly tucking his hair behind his ear and chewing on his bottom lip. “My parents weren’t thrilled at first, but I think they’ve come to accept it. It’s kind of a weird choice, I guess.”

 

“It’s better than professional mall elf, isn’t it?” Oikawa asked and Sugawara broke out into a peel of uproarious laughter.

 

“They couldn’t pay me enough.” Sugawara managed through his giggles.

 

“It’s not all that bad, though, is it?” Oikawa leaned back on his palms. “I’ve been helping out over there since they’ve been shorthanded.”

 

“Ah, they recruited you!?” Sugawara asked, burying his face in his hands and shaking his head back and forth. “I don’t know why I’m surprised, but I am. I’m so sorry, I’ll definitely be back in by Monday.”

 

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Oikawa closed his eyes and smiled, waving his hand dismissively. “I actually volunteered. I like the costume, it shows off my amazing calves.”

 

Sugawara gave a sharp sniff and cleared his throat. “I hadn’t noticed,” he lied.

 

Oikawa shrugged, “I look good in skirts. I’ll show you some time.”

 

Sugawara sputtered into his teacup. “Th-that,” he began, bowing his head to stare at the carpet near Oikawa’s foot and hide the wicked heat spreading through his cheeks. “I won’t argue.”

 

Oikawa smirked and leaned his elbow on the table. “You know--we should go on a date, Suga.”

 

Sugawara jolted a little, straightening up till his spine was flush with the back of the couch. “What?”

 

“A date,” Oikawa reiterated, “you and me, we should—“

 

“I heard you,” Sugawara said, running a hand through his hair. “It’s just that it didn’t go great last time, if you’ll recall.”

 

“I don’t remember it being so bad.”

 

“Most good dates don’t end with one half of the party walking home alone, crying in the snow.” Oikawa’s shoulders visibly tensed despite Sugawara’s forced laugh.

 

The two sat in an uneasy silence, Sugawara picking at a seam on the throw pillow in his lap. “You cried?” Oikawa asked finally, voice heavy with guilt.

 

Sugawara only shrugged in response.

 

“Okay,” Oikawa said, pulling himself from the floor and knocking back the cooling dregs of his tea. “Let’s have a date _now_.”

 

Sugawara sat with his eyebrows knit and his mouth hanging open in confusion. “I’m sorry?”

 

“Don’t be sorry,” Oikawa smirked, leaning over Sugawara’s mug to check the contents before picking it up and easing it into the others hands. “But finish your tea.”

 

“I don’t—“ Sugawara started, moving his mug to his lips to do as he was told. “I appreciate your enthusiasm but I’m not sure if I’m up to going out quite yet.”

 

“No?” Oikawa asked, looking for a moment mildly alarmed but overall undeterred in his frenzy. “No, I mean, I expected, but we don’t have to go out to have a date.” He explained, hurriedly. “I’ll make dinner. We can have it here.”

 

Sugawara glanced up, “you cook?”

 

“Well sorta…” Oikawa turned his eyes to the side. “We can order in.”

 

“But we’ve been doing that all week.”

 

“Yeah, but tonight we’re going to call it a date.”

 

Sugawara laughed a little, but he didn’t argue. “I need a shower.”

 

“You look fine.”

 

“My hair hasn’t been washed in an ungodly amount of time.”

 

“It doesn’t matter.”

 

“It really does, though.”

 

Oikawa reached a hand around the back of Sugawara's head and pulled him towards him. Sugawara clutched a hand to his chest, ears burning from the feeling of Oikawa’s warm breath on his neck. “So shower, I’ll wait.” Oikawa said, drawing a shrill squeak from Sugawara when he let his tongue dart out and trace the shell of his ear.

 

“Tooru!” Sugawara yelped, jumping away and wiping at his ear with his sleeve.

 

“Go,” Oikawa gestured him towards the bathroom. “I’ll place a call for food.”

 

Sugawara started to move towards the bathroom before hesitating and turning back around. “I—“ he began, touching his ear. “I'm sorta feeling like...I want to finish what we started.”

 

Oikawa lowered his cell from his ear. “What do you mean?”

 

“I mean the other night…at the bar…”

 

Oikawa blinked and let his phone fall to the ground. “You _sorta_ want to, or you want to?”

 

“I want to.” Sugawara said firmly, inhaling deeply.

 

That was all the prompting Oikawa needed. He grabbed Sugawara by the shirt collar and pushed him into the wall, moving his mouth over Sugawara’s in a crushing kiss.

 

Sugawara pulled away, still grasping onto Oikawa's biceps. "I—I should shower first."

 

Oikawa nodded numbly and pulled Sugawara into the bathroom by his wrist. "It's fine, we can shower together." He told him, lowering his mouth onto Sugawara's slender neck and grazing his teeth over the delicate skin there. "Is that okay?" He reached a hand down to grasp at Sugawara’s growing bulge, pulling his wet mouth away in a gasping breath when his own dick twitched from desperate want.

 

"Okay," Sugawara agreed readily. He reached a blind hand into the shower stall, clumsily turning on the water while trying desperately to ignore Oikawa’s teasing hold on his cock. He fumbled to pull his shirt over his head, yanking it off at lightning speed and tossing it to the corner of the bathroom. Oikawa followed suit while Sugawara moved to unbutton his jeans for him, only pausing to glance up with the most ridiculously alluring face when Oikawa shivered from the sudden sensation of cold fingers thrust beneath his underwear elastic.

 

“’S fine, just cold,” he managed to garble, his voice so thick and deep with lust that he barely recognized it.

 

Sugawara nodded, biting his lip and swallowing thickly before yanking down the alien-printed boxers to reveal the gentle curve of Oikawa’s square hips and his warm, swelling cock. Sugawara pressed his tongue to the tip, tasting the bitter tang of pre-cum and sweat.

 

“D-don’t,” Oikawa begged, pulling Sugawara’s head back by his hair. “I won’t last.”

 

Sugawara huffed in understanding and moved his attention to pulling off his own pajama pants and boxers. He tripped over the garments pooled around his ankles and only just managed to kick them from his feet before Oikawa had pulled him into the shower, folding both hands over the top of his head and leaning in to press soft, needy kisses into his neck.

 

“Your skin’s so fucking soft,” Oikawa panted, letting his fingertips graze lightly over the curve of Sugawara’s chest. He rubbed a calloused thumb over his nipple, tweaking it between his fingers and abandoning Sugawara’s neck to flick at it with his tongue.

 

He was just starting to graze his teeth across Sugawara’s chest when a sharp pain in his knee made him pull back with a wince.

 

Sugawara dragged his gaze from the ceiling and blinked hard, stubbornly pulling his mind back from the precipices of ecstasy. “Is it your knee?” He asked, grabbing Oikawa by the shoulders and blinking back the stray shower spray not blocked by his body.

 

Oikawa gritted his teeth and gave a short nod. “It’s fine, don’t worry.”

 

Sugawara frowned and wrapped his fingers around Oikawa’s neck, resting his thumbs on his cheeks and pulling their foreheads together. “It’s not fine if you’re in pain.” He told him solemnly. “Don’t keep something like that from me.”

 

Sugawara reached his hands around Oikawa’s hips and hoisted him up on the shower’s wide shelf, barely flinching when half-used bottles of shampoo and conditioner clattered to the ground. “Is this okay?” He breathed, mouth hovering dangerously close to Oikawa’s ear.

 

“Fine,” Oikawa managed, nipping at Sugawara’s exposed neck and sucking on the delicate skin once his mouth had gained purchase.

 

Sugawara bucked his hips forward, grinding his erection against Oikawa’s, biting at his lower lip to quash the desirous moans stirring in the back of his throat.

 

"You’re,” Oikawa grunted, grasping Sugawara’s soaked hair, pulling their mouths together. “You’re going to be on the naughty list for sure.”

 

Sugawara flinched, shivering from the pleasure of Oikawa’s tongue playfully darting into his mouth. “I’ll get you for that,” he teased, feigning biting at Oikawa’s lip before scraping his fingernails along the faded white stretch marks littering his shoulders. He flattened his tongue against the hollow of his clavicle and tasted his skin—coarse and salty and wildly intoxicating.

 

Oikawa’s chest tightened with a moan and Sugawara pulled away, eyes bright and unfocused and cheeks inflamed. “I’m going to use my mouth, okay?”

 

Oikawa nodded eagerly, too far gone to be embarrassed. “Yes, okay, it’s fine.”

 

Sugawara placed a hand against Oikawa’s upper thigh, pushing his legs further apart and bracing him against the shower wall. He nipped and kissed at Oikawa’s thighs and lower stomach, glancing up with a mischievous grin whenever Oikawa’s muscular calves clenched against his shoulders or his dick jumped with pleasure.

 

“Suga is such a—such a tease,” Oikawa managed to whine between pants, clenching his fists against his knees to fight the urge to grab at Sugawara’s damp silver hair.

 

“Do it,” Sugawara told him, licking his swollen bottom lip. “Pull my hair.”

 

Oikawa didn’t need to be told twice. He pushed the curling, wet strands from Sugawara’s forehead with his palm, combing the hair back with his fingers and craning Sugawara’s head until he could see the length of his neck.

 

He wanted to reach down and bite at his Adam’s apple, but Sugawara grasped a hand around the base of his dick, making him jump back with a hiss of pleasure. Sugawara leaned forward and flattened his tongue against the tip, moving his hand up and down the shaft—first lightly, but slowly gaining both pressure and speed. He bobbed his head forward, closing his lips around Oikawa’s dick and circling the head with his tongue, moving his hand down to grasp Oikawa’s balls as he took the length of him into his throat.

 

Oikawa started to slip forward and pushed his body back to steady himself. He shuddered in anticipation when Sugawara moved his mouth away, making sure Oikawa was secure before moving his tongue down to his balls. He sucked gently but Oikawa couldn’t stop the moans projected unwittingly from his clenching throat. The sounds he was making were so lewd. He’d maybe be embarrassed about it if not for the pure and perfect pleasure pulsing from his toes and his fingertips and his stomach, straight into his cock.

 

Sugawara had one hand around his own dick and one around Oikawa’s, stroking them in synch. He teased the head of Oikawa’s dick with his tongue, pulling away every few seconds to let out his own desperate whimpers.

 

As the pressure and speed of Sugawara’s stroking increased, a jolt of ecstasy racketed through Oikawa’s body. He threw his head back, banging it into the shower wall, but Sugawara didn’t stop his rhythm, so Oikawa didn’t notice. He was too immersed in overwhelming pleasure to care.

 

“I’m—I’m gonna,” he warned. His limbs went rigid and his knees knocked loudly against the shower walls, but he still tried to pull Sugawara’s mouth away from his dick, only to have his hand slapped away. He felt hands grasp hard on his ass and he slumped into the orgasm, waves of warm relief washing him over him as his hips bucked and Sugawara sucked him dry. He felt paralyzed, weightless. He felt like every inch of skin was vulnerable and charged with electricity. Colors danced in his vision and he swore he could hit a hundred perfect serves in a row if someone handed him a volleyball.

 

Sugawara pumped at his own cock, shoulders trembling against Oikawa’s calves. When Oikawa had recovered enough to support his own weight without falling, he slid his legs down from the side of the tub and moved Sugawara’s hand away with his own, stroking his dick for him until he came. Sugawara heaved forward into Oikawa’s shoulder, panting and trembling and red-faced.

 

“You—you—amazing” Oikawa managed. Sugawara nodded without looking up. Once he had recovered his breath, he grabbed at the side of Oikawa’s head, pulling him down into a crushing kiss.

 

The water was rapidly cooling, so Oikawa regretfully pulled them apart, licking at the glistening bridge of spit between them. He turned off the water and turned back to Sugawara, giving a half smile as he brushed a stray silver curl away from his cheek.

 

“You okay?”

 

Sugawara nodded shakily, and lifted his head to meet Oikawa’s face, smiling and blinking hard. He didn’t seem capable of speech yet, so Oikawa managed to locate the linen closet on his own while Sugawara sat on the side of the tub, regaining his composure. They toweled each other off with immense care—a procedure that took longer than usual due to the frequent pauses for increasingly salacious kisses.

 

Once dry, they lay on the bed together—shoulders touching and limbs intertwined—naked and warm and completely content.

 

“Suga?” Oikawa asked, turning his head to stare unashamedly at the gentle slope of Sugawara’s nose and the soft pallor of his luminous skin.

 

“Hm?” Sugawara hummed, eyes closed and body thrumming with the burgeoning heaviness of sleep.

 

“Can you wear the elf costume next time?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What better way to celebrate the fact that my girlfriend and I could get marry some day if we so choose than to write about cute guys having fun shower antics!? This update took me forever. I suck. I'm sorry. I did a really half-assed editing job and I will fix that at a later time. I hope you enjoyed it all the same! We're an epilogue away from the end. As always, if you want to chat, [hit me up here](http://youremarvelous.tumblr.com/). xoxo


	7. Epilogue

“You’re seriously going?”

 

“I’m going.”

 

Oikawa sighed, shifting from foot to foot as his diaphanous breath dispersed into the cold morning haze.

 

Sugawara glanced at him and suppressed a smile. “You didn’t have to come if it bothers you this much.”

 

“Don’t be mean,” Oikawa huffed, reaching a hand over to ruffle Sugawara’s hair. “You need someone to see you off.”

 

“I really don’t, though.”

 

“The only people that wait for trains alone are like—lonely protagonists in romance books.”

 

“Oh c’mon, that’s not fair.”

 

“Well, life’s not fair.” Oikawa told him, winking. “And I’m waiting here with you.”

 

Sugawara shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

 

They stood in an awkward silence, Oikawa rocking from his heels to his toes, hands stuffed firmly in his pockets to conserve body heat. “So…” He breathed after a while. “You _are_ seriously going, then?”

 

Sugawara glared at him, face looking like the intersection between irritated and amused. “For the thousandth time, I’m going.”

 

“Yeah but,” Oikawa shifted from foot to foot. “I’m worried you're gonna get on the train and then realize I’m the one you actually want to spend the holiday with. So you'll jump out right as the door starts to close, which is dangerous, honestly, so if you’re—“

 

“I’m not,” Sugawara stopped him, hand tightening around his suitcase handle. “I mean, I _am_ —going. And I’m not going to change my mind.”

 

“But what if—“

 

“Daichi’s my friend. He’s been my friend for a long time.”

 

“I know, I know,” Oikawa replied miserably.

 

“You’ll spend time with Iwazumi, you won’t even notice I’m gone.”

 

“That’s a lie,” Oikawa mumbled into his scarf.

 

They stood in silence for a while, both flinching when the intercom announced the approaching train.

 

Sugawara sighed and moved in front of Oikawa, tilting his head with a smile. “You’re such a big baby,” he teased, pushing Oikawa’s hair back and standing up on his tiptoes to kiss him on the forehead. “We can skype, okay? It’s just a few days.”

 

Oikawa nodded, eyes glued to his feet.

 

“Look, I’ll get a job dressing up as—I don’t know—the Easter Bunny’s assistant, and we can use that money to go to the beach this summer.”

 

Oikawa’s lip twitched and he burst out in a giddy laugh. “’Easter Bunny’s assistant?’”

 

Sugawara closed his eyes and stuck out his tongue in embarrassment. “Well whatever, you get the idea.”

 

“Yeah, okay,” Oikawa smiled. The train squealed into the station and he glanced up at the station marquee to check the time. “You should probably board, the train’ll disembark soon.”

 

Sugawara inhaled deeply and grabbed his suitcase. “Yeah.” He stared at Oikawa, biting his bottom lip expectantly, before swallowing and turning away. “Well, see you.”

 

When he was only a few steps away, Oikawa lunged forward. “Wait,” he exclaimed, grabbing Sugawara by his backpack’s haul strap and pulling him back.

 

Sugawara turned around to tell him off, only to be silenced by soft lips meeting his own.

 

“I’ll miss you.” Oikawa whispered when they parted, mouth still lingering only a few inches from Sugawara’s.

 

“Me, too.”

 

“Call me if you’re lonely.”

 

“I will.”

 

“Or if you’re having a great time, or if you need to vent, or if his girlfriend is mean to you, or—whatever, just call me, okay?”

 

“Okay.” Sugawara inhaled shakily. He glanced up into Oikawa’s eyes and smiled.

 

“Shit,” Oikawa groaned, letting his head fall onto Sugawara’s shoulder. “Let’s date, okay? When you get back. Let’s date for real.”

 

“Yeah.” Sugawara agreed easily.

 

Oikawa picked his head back up, cheeks turning red. “Yeah?”

 

“Yeah,” Sugawara smiled, lightly touching Oikawa’s cheek. “I’d like that.”

 

Oikawa smiled brightly and leaned forward to kiss Sugawara again. “So…” he said when they had parted. “You’re still going?”

 

“I’m going, I’m going,” Sugawara snapped, playfully pinching Oikawa’s nose.

 

“Fiiiine,” Oikawa whined, doing a poor job of suppressing a giddy smile. “I changed my mind, by the way.”

 

“About what?”

 

“I think you deserve to be on the nice list, after all.”

 

“Oh?” Sugawara smiled mischievously and leaned towards Oikawa’s ear. “I’ll have to do something about that when I get back.”

 

Oikawa quirked an eyebrow and winked. “Who knew you had such a bad personality,” he teased as Sugawara rolled his eyes and re-adjusted his backpack.

 

Sugawara started to walk towards his suitcase, only to change his mind and turn on his heel, enveloping Oikawa in a tight hug. “Merry Christmas, Tooru.”

 

Oikawa buried his nose into Sugawara’s hair and smiled. “Merry Christmas, Koushi.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maybe this will make up for how slow my last update was? Fluff explosion epilogue ~ I might write a one-shot or 2 for this series, or maybe a short multi-chaptered about Sugawara's time in Tokyo. I dunno. But anyway, I hope you all enjoyed this. Thanks so much as always for your support and kind words! xoxo


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